


Wasteland, Baby!

by frustratrish



Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2020-06-03 02:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 81,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19454428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frustratrish/pseuds/frustratrish
Summary: Mona was an ex-military who stumbled in with the group while on her mission in Georgia. She could very well handle all of it on her own, stay alone in the woods and be able to live off without anyone else but, she found herself already there and without any will of going away for some reason. She's determined to find out that reason all while killing geeks, surviving the apocalypse, and braving the sea of redneck.





	1. ...

Oh, and, she doesn't speak a word.


	2. Warm Showers

I have a long list of the things I miss before all of this chaos.

Maybe, the first in that list is warm showers after a long and tiring day.

Second on the list would be the joy of simple life-if the way I lived before would be called that...

And third? Maybe, the comfort of privacy. Of being alone or having to go about my day without anyone or anything messing it up-or eating your entirety when given a chance.

The sound of a branch breaking under mere footstep brought me back from dreamland. Still hazy from thinking about warm showers-I grab the bark of the tree to keep myself from falling as I look from below, hiding beneath the covers of the thick leaves that surrounds me. If there's one thing a person should be worried about today? It's the sound of anything suspicious in the forest-or low grumbles from brainless assholes eating assholes.

Or as they colorfully like to call it at camp, geeks. Who invented that? I vote Glenn-or Carl. Either or, my senses are kicking off the roof and I have my trustee old pal Knifey to put them to rest.

Who names their knives? I do. It's the little things in life now that we have few to indulge with.

Just as I set my foot on another branch, I heard...giggling. The sudden race in my heart halted for a bit and tried to adjust from the branch I was sitting on, on to the next thicker one to get a much better look. And right then?

I add another thing on the long list of things I miss before this terrifying apocalypse.

Rooms. Fucking rooms.

Before I even vomit the contents of my breakfast, I made my way down the tree. Careful not to disturb or be heard-not that it would ever be a problem since people would often tell me how I walk like a cat and would compliment-or tell me off about how light my steps are that they hardly know I'm there. It scared the shit out of them and I would be too since it's a matter of time before someone shoots me from being startled.

I even had the need to clear my throat whenever I'm near just so someone could acknowledge my presence. Cons of not speaking.

After carefully treading down from the high tree, and tuning out the groans and moans that kept ringing on the empty forest, I slowly made my way to the other side, knowing the paths like the back of my hand for camping so long in the hills.

The rustling of the leaves from the tree didn't hid the fact that there's another footstep treading behind me. Slowly, I grabbed twelve inch Knifey from the sheaths hooked on my belt, curling my hands on the black leather handle and breathing slowly through my nose. I spun around in that instant, only to stop halfway from drawing Knifey when I saw a pair of startled blue eyes.

"Aren't ya just hard to sneak up on." The redneck blurted out and huffs, and I couldn't contain how annoyed I am right now. He could've gotten himself killed for pete's sakes! "Where ya heading at?" I didn't take the time to answer the question as I started walking once again. Brushing from my mind how that redneck and his older redneck brother-the two assholes set a game for themselves.

To piss me off-nope, to sneak up on me without me ever noticing. It's like the way I named my knife Knifey. The little things that they indulge with? Well, this game is one of them. And sure as hell were the rednecks enjoying the threatening knives halfway from slashing into their skulls.

Really, assholes.

I stopped midway from walking when I saw a familiar figure from a far. Looking back, I see the redneck setting up his arrow-I mean, bolt. I was never one to speak so I grabbed a small rock beside my black combat shoe, threw it and it hit his shoulders. Giving me a grunt and a sharp glare which I replied with a smile as my hands pointed to the other side.

To where our glorious dinner would be. A deer.

"Don't ya just got an eye for things." He grunts, slinging his beloved crossbrow over his shoulders and stalking closer to where our dinner would be. "Ya comin', wallflower?" I frowned, not from the nickname (which is an insult coming from them) but from his invitation. It's not always-and not really a known fact that the Dixon's would ask anyone to accompany them from their hunt-they hardly even accompany each other, much less other people. "It's you who found it." He shrugs, turning to his heel and judging by how I got nothing better to do.

I followed Daryl.

My closeness with the Dixon's is a mystery itself. They kept to themselves, or people wouldn't really bother to come near them because of their usual hobby of spouting inappropriate words, followed by profanities-endless profanities. It would usually be Merle who'll start the whole charade, only to be followed by Daryl, and it would be like spending the night on a southern tavern.

And then a girl came into the picture. Someone who could creep up beside them and ended up having to listen to their endless slurs and curses of startling them blah blah. That started there, from trying to get back at me but failing horribly. Until the only person they could at the very least tolerate, is me.

Not that I need tolerating. Let's just say I keep everything to myself every time. No need for bitching about.

"Keep up, short stuff." I glared at his back even if he couldn't see, following behind him as we both kept our mid stance, his cross bow at aim to our dinner and his hunter skills at par. While I held on Knifey and ready my senses for geeks possibly roaming around.

I don't do runs with Daryl, because he likes to be let alone most of the time. But when I do? He'd casually glance around like a lunatic. May it be from keeping sure I'm still following, or I creep him up big time.

*****

It could've easily been three hours of following the goddamn creature, even having two bolts stuck on its body but it's still walking around like there's nothing stuck in its belly. Although it could only last long with losing blood-but it's already getting dark. Going back to camp now is a major risk neither Daryl and I would wanna bet on. "Let's camp out here, follow the trail in the mornin'."

I nod, grabbing a few wood on the way as we found a good place to get on. The sight of dead rabbit rabbits and squirrels that we're able to catch on hang snuggly around his shoulders like a scarf. The instant view made me laugh but before he could even see, I spun around my heel and grab more woods to make a fire from. "Don't think I didn't hear ya." Pursing my lips in a futile attempt to ignore that he caught me, I started making the fire as he set rocks around it, glaring at me with those blue eyes while on it.

I shrug, as if saying sorry and it was luck that these brothers understood my small gestures. None at the camp did so they usually opt for questions that answers yes and no.

After starting the live fire and seeing the moonlight grow brighter from above, the only sound left from the forest was the casual movements of small animals, and the fire crackling. None of us spoke-not that there's a need to. Daryl wouldn't speak often, I wouldn't speak ever and if Merle was here? He'd be calling geeks from miles away. The man never stops, and I bet all my favorite knives he'll ever does.

Not even death or apocalypse could stop that man from talking.

"Ya have some vocal problems or somethin'?" My eyes darted at Daryl who spoke as I lay on my back beside a large tree. He's looking straight at the fire while I examine his face. It wasn't the neutral irritated face like always-it's something. If I didn't know better, it could be from his brother.

I guess Merle being not here with him bothers the hell out of him. "Ya gotta let me win, wallflower. I want that sumafabitch to piss his pants when he comes back." A small smile crept up on his face and I couldn't say that it's my first time seeing it. Maybe to some, but not me. That snarky little smile he gives off whenever his brother says something out of this world. I saw it twice when they would take watch, and they didn't care that I'm just at a tree nearby. Hearing stories I would never dream of hearing, and words I have zero intentions of understanding.

"Nothing?" He looks at me then and I rolled my eyes, grabbing another stone and throwing it at him which he's able to duck. "I'll get ya someday."

Shaking my head, I turned to look at the moonlight once again and thought about my list. The list in my head of the things I miss. Maybe, booze? Not that we didn't have any-there would be. But there's no time for getting shitfaced in the middle of the apocalypse. "I'll take first watch, lil bit." I rolled my eyes in his constant nicknames of just about anything he could think of regarding my height and my entirety.

I snuggled on the side, gritting my teeth for a little bit from the coldness of the night. The morning heat isn't appreciated, much less the cold breeze of the night. It's just like there's nothing really normal in this world anymore.

Sighing to myself, my hands found its way to Knifey, making sure it's tight and snug before giving it up to dreamland. 


	3. Deer Guts

Two things. Two things about hunting with Daryl that didn't sit well enough with me.

First, waking him up from his sleep is a pain in the ass when his fist almost landed on my face. Imagine how strong that redneck would be when caught off-handed. That, I am surely not gonna risk again.

Second, would be how grumpy he is when hungry and frustrated. It's another hour of trying to chase the goddamn deer that Daryl luckily was still able to found. But then again, it's nowhere near its death bed and we're beginning to get really cranky-judging by how my boots hit the pavement? I'm nowhere near stealth anymore.

"Would ya be the wallflower that you are?" Daryl hissed and I made a face. Stumping a little louder than I intend to, breaking a small branch under my boot that seemed to have spooked the deer.

And it ran.

Uh-oh. "Really, lil bit?!" I pursed my lips and pointed to the dead rabbit and squirrels around his shoulders. Making it known that we're still able to butcher some-but my stomach was turning in knots as I knew it wouldn't taste half as good-barely good as the deer.

I raised both my hands and shrug, letting him know that I was sorry and he just scowled.

 _"Aaaahh!"_ A shriek made both the deer run, Daryl curse and me, sprinting from where the familiar voice is. I was fast on my feet, didn't even remember my empty stomach nor my crankiness as I ran. My usual stance and stealth back on its mode and as if I almost didn't make a sound.

I've just realized then that we're really far from the base camp and as I'm nearing the base, I stopped dead on my tracks and heard rustling leaves. I crouched down and knew that Daryl could be doing the same behind me. We could never be too careful because there's only two things that could be here in forest, that could be our people or the geeks are starting to roam around the hills.

"Son of a bitch!" Daryl's voice startled me from behind and if he wasn't too bothered about what he saw, he could've won on him and his brother's little bet.

But I won't tell him that, _of course_. They won't let me live it down. No way would my reputation be ruined just because of some redneck cursed behind me.

Coming out from hiding, I stood up and followed behind Daryl's trail. Seeing the deer that I spooked, lying down on the ground with its guts sprawled out and a geek without a head on beside it. I looked around and saw all the familiar faces-except one. "That's my deer!" I made eye contact to the man in white shirt that holds a pointed bar and he seem wary about seeing a frustrated redneck and a nonchalant blonde.

An ugly sound of guts spilling more brought me back to a sight of Daryl kicking a corpse and ranting on a poor geek. "Calm down, son. That's not helping." Dale calmly spoke, as the usual Dale he is.

"What do you know about it, old man?!" I gritted my teeth as I saw the redneck I thought I really want to hate. Daryl is hot-headed-the same goes to Merle, and not one would try and dare to cross their paths whenever they're like that. "Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to "On Golden Pond"?"

I turned away after that, sitting on a large rock as I watch this stupid redneck rant all of his frustrations out. I knew he had the right, for we've been trying to hunt the deer for a day and a half, but then again, nothing's going to happen if he kept rubbing it off on them.

"Lil bit and I have been tracking this deer for miles." The nickname, again. "Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. Do you think we could cut around this part right here?" Daryl pulled up his bolts from the poor deer and still tried to ask if we could savage the un-eaten parts of the deer.

"I would not risk that." Shane mumbled as he held on to his beloved rifle. No one would risk that-even I would enjoy myself a piece of a squirrel than to eat a shared meat with a geek.

Judging by the faces around while Daryl is ranting his ass off-I saw Glenn and Morales are back, although... where's Merle? I stood up from the missing face and wondered where the other hot-headed redneck is. Beginning to wonder where he could be as how there's no other voice blaring in the quiet camp.

Daryl's bolt came crashing into the head of the geek and that brought me back to sanity.

Merle is really not here. He would be-he should be.

Daryl walked away and it left me with Glenn, who had the eyes of someone worrying. I pointed on to the new face and he pulled up a smile. "That's Rick." I turned to the man eyeing me, who had the same stance and build as Shane does-even movements. Like everything is calculated and firm. "And this is Ramona. She never speaks." I nod at the man as he gave me a grateful smile, but something about his eyes tells that they're worried or scared.

And I knew it just then that it could be something about their run-and Merle.

I inclined my head at Glenn and he pursed his lips. "Merle." He muttered under his breath and I could never be more right.

I ran to the camp as obviously it would be chaos, one way or another. Not that I'm really worried-but there are kids on the camp and women...fragile women. "Merle! Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrels. Let's stew 'em up!" I catch up to Daryl, and that almost startled Shane as I was able to run past him without even a sound. I smirked to myself ever so slightly before getting myself ready for what's about to come.

I knew that they're going to tell him about it and I have my stance ready for whatever the redneck would do. Whether he'll swing around his crossbow or cause chaos, Knifey and I are more that ready. "Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Is Shane really the right person to break the shell?

"About what?"

"About Merle." Daryl stopped on his tracks in hearing the name of his brother and Shane stood inches away from him. Mostly getting himself ready as well. "There was a problem in Atlanta." Daryl looked around and he knew then-there's no other redneck blaring its voice around.

"He dead?" His voice trailed at the same time something on my shoulders slump. May it be worry or feeling bad about something, I'm really not sure. I never really liked Daryl, nor Merle for that matter. But I've been with them for so long in this chaos to realized that attachment is a bitch. Just having to know them for months and having to endure their racial slurs and quips, it hurts to say I've grown slight... just slightly attached.

"We're not sure."

"He either is or he ain't!" Here we go.

"No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it." The new guy took the initiative and I could only shake my head, knowing damn well this wouldn't go very well. To say the least, I'm still exhausted from the useless hunt, I don't think I'd be the best person to have the most patience on stopping this redneck.

"Who are you?" He asks intimidatingly.

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes, you got something you wanna tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there." The man had balls, I had to applaud him for that. And if I were Daryl? And that's my brother? I would have shot him in one go and retrieve my brother in just hours.

"You're saying you handcuffed my brother into a roof, and you left him there?!" T-Dog appeared beside me and almost as if he's shielding me from Daryl's sudden outburst, which I didn't need for he's the one who should be bracing himself.

"Yeah." It all took one answer before he threw away our gracious food-that I didn't have the appetite to even eat anymore-and abruptly got taken down by Shane when he so much attempted to go over the new guy. I couldn't blame him, but he has got to take a chill pill before he kills everyone.

Just then, he started drawing his knife but the boys managed to stop him from his reckless attempts of swishing it in every possible direction, taking him down once again and Shane doing a very good choke hold on him. I could perfectly see now why his weapon is a bolt. Knifes and Daryl don't go well together. "Choke hold's illegal."

"Darn right." I mumbled as I took a step back, sitting on the hood of the jeep and watching everything unfold in front of me. Like a sad old movie of losing someone very dear to him. I could chain the older redneck easily where I wanted to, but just thinking about losing your family just because he's an asshole? Well, those were two different things. Merle may annoy me to fucking death, but at least I have my morals. I could easily hit him with a gun at the back of his head repeatedly than leave him marooned at a roof with nothing but his drugged ass.

"I dropped the key in a drain." I could see small muffled cries of the younger redneck and it's the first I ever saw him like this. His strong and unfazed façade, all breaking by the thought of losing someone he's able to tolerate. "I chained the door on the roof with a padlock so the geeks couldn't get at him." Well, that doesn't do a thing. Either he'll die of thirst, exposure, or just by getting crazy.

"Just tell me where he is, so I can go get him."

"He'll show you, isn't that right?" Lori interfered and I frowned with the sudden connection I felt within the new guy and her. If there's something my previous job had taught me, it's having to know what people have just judging by their actions. And sure as hell the new guy is nobody to the girl I saw... on the forest the other day.


	4. Misfits

"You seem exhausted." A woman spoke beside me and immediately saw Amy, a bottle of water dangling beside me as she took a seat right where I am. I didn't have any problems about getting close with people at camp but if there's anyone here that I have issues with, it's her older sister. She doesn't like me so I don't like her either. It's as simple as that.

I grabbed the bottle on her hands and pulled up a small smile as thank you. "Think it's a good idea they're coming back?" I snorted and shook my head, taking the water all in as I attempt to close my eyes and have a small nap at the reclining chair. It gets exhausting having to go about the forest and find nothing but now dirty squirrels and rabbits, and it's exhausting keeping up with that redneck. The day sure took a toll on me. "That's what I think so too." I only gave her a glanced and closed my eyes, but not long after another voice blared at my left.

"Why would you risk your life for a douchebag like Merle Dixon?" He got the douchebag part right if I'm being honest. Merle is anything but nice, he would go as to call every girl in the camp sugar tits and flashed a quick grin. He attempted to call me that once-and even before he could finish, my knuckles already met his jaw so hard I'm sure all his teeth roared. I didn't escape with that though, one minute and his younger brother pointed his arrow right at me, contempt on shooting it and it only took one raised brow before all of that disappeared right out of his face.

"Hey, choose your words more carefully." Daryl intervened and I almost chuckled.

"No, I did. Douchebag's what I meant." I admire Shane's nerve, but to an extent.

I stood up at that, knowing I wouldn't have a nice rest and judging by what's going on, neither will I have a place to rest easily so I stretched up. Thinking of quite a few things to do, even deciding to go for a hunt by myself just so I could get myself away from all these noise. I was never one to put myself in line of the fire, but if I have to protect the people at camp? I would. Just not this issue about going around the city swarmed with geeks. "So, you and Daryl? That's your big plan?" I turned to Lori and the new guy glanced at Glenn, who seemed like he didn't fancy the idea of going back. No one likes to go on run, but if we would've wanted to survive at least bearably, we have to. Even if it sucked like pencil dick.

I walked around at that before even being seen as they're finalizing who's gonna come, and doubts the idea they'd drag me into it for the sole reason that they trust my stealth around camp, but then, a familiar hillbilly spoke, "Where'd ya think yur goin'?" I turned and all eyes were on me as the redneck was busy cleaning his bolts, obviously knowing I'm planning to escape.

I pointed to the way of the forest, hoping they all get what I'm trying to say but the hillbilly only chuckled. "Yur comin, lil bit."

"Oh, great! Now, five." Shane yelled exasperatedly. "Why'd you even want Ramona to come?! She's one of the best we have here and if we had an attack, knowing that the geeks are already moving away from the city and on to the forest, we needed her more than ever in this camp!" I appreciate the sentiment and pointed to Shane as a sign I agree to him-even if it hurts me again to do so-but Daryl only chuckled. I swear this hillbilly will get me killed in no time, and I don't even have to voice to disagree with him. Much less have the energy for the run.

"If there's someone Merle isn't gonna kill, it'll be me and wallflower right here. More chances of bringing ya'll back alive." I opened my mouth in disbelief as I can't-begin to point out if it's a compliment that the Dixon's like me, or if it's a bad thing that they do. This just means I'm beginning to be one of them, like them, or that they just don't understand me well enough and thought that I wanted to be a part of their irrational and inexplicably terrifying family tree. Not that the hicks would fancy the idea, I'm sure it bothers them the same way it did to me. The Dixon brotherhood is just too strong for a random blonde that never speaks to be part of.

I should be rethinking this whole not-speaking thing I have. People are starting to twist my signs and the minute I know it? They're all treating me like a part of this southern man's dysfunctional and erratic behaviours.

I turned to Daryl and glared at him, he gave a tight shrug as I kick him in the shins and crossed my arms. He only glared as if he didn't feel a thing even if I made sure the tip of my combat shoe connects right to his bones. I swear, this man could pass as The Terminator without even needing CGI. "If ya don't want to get yur people killed, you'll come." Was that blackmail?! "And I know you will." He smirked slightly before it completely disappeared on his stupid face. It seemed like I wasn't left with any more choices as the people scampered around and got ready with the run. If it wasn't for trying to get his brother-and not seeing him cry his ass off, I wouldn't have come. I still wouldn't have even if he did-but was I left with a choice now? He knew how much I care about the people in the camp and if Merle had a wondrous idea of killing spree to those who left him bathing under the sun? Then this hillbilly's gonna need me for sure.

I turned back and headed to my tent, grabbing my G36 kept safely under my pillow, and a few rounds before coming out back with the little things that I only need. I didn't wanna bring much because of a few circumstances-including how I'm still exhausted on last night's unexpected hunt, and my mind all in scrambles for I haven't had even a minute of silence since then. Hunting with Daryl isn't all that in silence when his stares and grunts are deafening enough-add in the growls of frustration and his hourly scowls.

A car honking shook me off of my daze and it was the ever so impatient redneck, mumbling to himself with a frightened Glenn at the driver's seat. I shook my head as I hop on the back, the redneck smirking at me for he surely knows when and how to pressed my unnecessary buttons. I opened my mouth to finally say something but thought better of it, I don't think muttering something would help one bit in this ugly ass situation.

"Ya was gonna say sumthin'?" I didn't warrant him a glance and flip my middle finger instead, the scowl on his face easing for a millisecond before it turned into a deeper one. There are only occasional times have I ever seen him do that without his brother and I think I should keep a list. With that I could bug him off the same as he does to me.

The drive didn't take long and we parked near a secluded train track, hopping off of the van and scurrying towards where the new guy is, together with Glenn and T. The redneck came from the other side and cocked his bolt like the bad-ass he's trying to be. My attention diverted away and soon, I found my head flying into god knows where, obviously away from listening what the plans are and hoping that this day would end in a heartbeat.

It didn't last long before we finally reached the building, the redneck basically hopping through every step, even bumping his southern ass on me but stopping to spare me a quick glance with his silvery blues and back to his main mission-find the asshole he loves so dearly. My obviously reclining health, low amount of food stored in the body, and sleep deprivation took a toll on me as I reached the top of the stairs and found myself heaving and out of breath. "You okay, boo?" T-Dog asks and I nod, giving a thumbs up even if my body is clearly telling on me. The beaded sweat on my forehead and my dry mouth is ruining my reputation as of the moment, and I am nowhere near liking it.

T carried the bolt cutter and cut the chains open, with the door blasting wide open and as the last one to walk over the platform, I could only hear the redneck's cries. Either Merle has been a great main course or that he's not there at all, the younger redneck didn't like it very much.

The view of a saw, and a hand clearly not attached to a body proved that he's either alive and kicking, or that the geeks deemed it fitting to leave us a souvenir.

Daryl draw his crossbow to T and I didn't have to respond as the new guy's Python was pointed directly into Daryl's flustered face. He's so angry that the veins on his head are pulsing, and the coil of his muscle while holding the crossbow were tightening. It's as if he didn't fear the cold barrel against his head, and that's why I could only thread lightly towards the Dixon brothers. They don't generally fear anything-aside maybe from monsters under their bed. "I won't hesitate. I don't care if every walker in the city hears it."

No matter how I hate him, I don't think killing Daryl would be the best way to go. And I certainly don't think killing T would do us any good too. I looked over Glenn and his horrified expression, obviously he hadn't seen three men filled with rage and tension ever in his life. Glad the apocalypse happened, now, anything is possible.

Both men lowered their weapons and I almost breathed a sigh of relief, just almost, not until the redneck asked for a rag and-picked up his brother's hand. I shake my head in mere disbelief while the redneck looked at me, raising the hand by its pinky with a knowing smirk. "Ain't that a bitch?" I waved my hand off and felt bad for the kid when Daryl nonchalantly stack the hand in his bag, as if it's not disgusting and... unreasonable.

I looked away from both men and saw stains of blood, eventually following it and knowing a man was just right behind me when his boot made a sound. I turned to look and pointed to the trail, him nodding like we had a silent conversation and it lead us through a metal door. My feet dragging heavily through the metal stairs as Daryl called out to his brother. "Merle? You in here?" I got my hands hovered around my G36 in case big brother decides to sneak up on us and kill the people he had bad blood with.

We eventually reached a hallway of what seemed like an office, judging by the main setting of every room there is. Hearing Daryl's bolt charging to my left and another gooey sound that followed next upon removing the arrow right in the geek's head. It surely was disgusting but by the amount of times I've seen it, I've learned to live with it. The whole time I was with them, it's either get used to them guttering their hunt or gag every now and then. I clearly chose the former-but can attest that I've seen worse.

We quietly thread the hallway, my feet barely making a sound on the pavement as I was trained to do so, and as soon as I turned on the left hallway, a trail of dead geeks were scattered around it. I had to whistle softly to get their attention and followed the direction of two geeks. "Had enough in him to take out these two sumbitches... one handed." I rolled my eyes in his little amusement and followed what seemed like-a foul smell.

Something really, really foul I almost familiarized with it. It took me a minute to stop myself from cursing out loud when I found it, and the others crept up behind me when they saw what I was just looking at. I admit I'm not new to seeing these things but he really did a good number on himself.

That older hick got persistency like a fucking rock.

"He left the building? Why the hell would he do that?" Glenn questioned and if I was in the mood, I would've easily answered him as survival is the main goal in this bitch fate, and if he hadn't left this building, he'll rot in here together with the geeks he hasn't graciously killed.

"Why wouldn't he? He's out there alone as far as he knows, doing what he's gotta do. Surviving." I hate to say that I'm sharing a brain with a Dixon, and it's certainly the end of the world if I admit to that.

"You call that surviving? Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out?" I give a small nod, patting T's shoulders before following the redneck and his adventures in the wild, wild west. "What are his odds out there?!" He suddenly turned and I had to step back just to avoid getting slump by either his fist or whole body.

"No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks." Daryl's eyes darted to mine and he only pursed his lip before turning to the new guy. That's what I thought. "I'm gonna go get him." His sudden stupid decision gathered my attention and the new guy stopped him. "You can't stop me!" I held on to his arm and shook my head, letting the new guy ramble to him while I drown in those silvery blues. I immediately regret my hold and took my hand back, leaning against the wall and focusing on removing the dirt under my nails instead. The redneck didn't like to be physically touched aside from his brother-and I'm not an exception to that. So touching him was a big no-no, until it felt like electricity to do so.

Like current climbing up my arms and had nowhere to go but south to where it didn't matter the most. It's damn apocalypse and all my southern part could think about is how that current would felt like if I hadn't let go.

Rick seemed to calmed him down just by mumbling something I rather not hear, "Only if we get those guns first. I'm not rolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, okay?" T was partly right but hearing about those god damn guns were suicide. The area was swarmed with geeks, and I doubt we could get that without precision planning. And judging by our merry band of misfits, I don't think anything could hardly ever work. 


	5. Spiderman

~~~~Glenn is the brightest kid I've ever encountered since I met him at the camp, and usually I take his word for anything. But his plan... well, let's just say I didn't trust it for even one bit. "You're not doing this alone." Rick says firmly as he poses like a real good cop. His stance is calculated and his eyes, those filled with courage and resolute. The eyes are windows to the soul, and I don't think my eyes were as filled as goodly his. One could wish, though.

"Even I think it's a bad idea and I don't even like you very much." I sent Daryl a glare and he only shrugs, knowing all too well that this southern asshat never really like anyone. He simply tolerates.

"It's a good idea, okay? If you just hear me out." Glenn stated and I sat beside him, giving him an encouraging smile even if I doubt his plans. "If we go out there in a group, we're slow, drawing attention. If I'm alone, I can move fast." He gave a small window for response but everyone seemed to be assessing everything. "Usually, I could take Ramona because she's twice as fast as I am, but she's worn out." My eyes widen with his theory and I scowled, although it seemed like my weariness was too obvious judging by how my feet had been dragging since this morning. Glenn is a bright child, indeed. And I already have confident in his plan, maybe 19% out of 100%.

It's still something. It gotta count for something. "Look, that's the tank. Five blocks from where we are now, and that's the bag of guns." His illustration makes think of how much time this kid played video games that includes this much of precision and planning. He certainly spent way too much time in it. "Here's the alley I dragged you into when we first met." He says, looking straight at Rick and I've yet to know how this man managed to find his way to camp. I guess story time will have to wait. "That's where Daryl and I will go."

"Why me?" Daryl hissed.

"Your crossbow is quieter than his gun." He explains and turned to me, "Ramona will be at the rooftop, just in case we needed a back up plan and gun is the way to go. I trust her very much with that." This boy had a lot of explaining to do for being able to figure out my strengths and faults, was he doing telekinesis? Because as far as I know in this hell hole of a world, with dead coming back alive, maybe shit like those exist and he's been using the power over me.

"You got us elsewhere?" Rick asked.

"Right, you'll be here in this alley." Glenn moved the pink eraser two blocks from where Daryl is supposed to be and I frowned. This kid seriously needs to assessed his plans.

"Two blocks? Why?" Rick glanced at me and I could only shrug, not knowing how this kid's mind works. If I know, hell would I tell him. I'm still actually taken aback by how his brain works.

"I may not be able to come back the same way. Walkers might cut me off. If that happens, I won't go back to Daryl. I'll go forward instead, all around the alley where you guys are. Whichever direction I go, I got you in both places to cover me." Smart. That is really smart.

"Hey kid, what'd you do before all this?" Daryl asks in full curiosity which now bit me too. You can't have this much of a knowledge for just being a normal boy going back and forth to college. I've never been to college and I surely didn't go about every streets and alley on New York.

"Delivered pizzas, why?" Oh, I thought he's secretly _Spiderman._

Like I said, in this world? Nothing's impossible anymore.

I watched as one by one, the boys climbed down the ladder while I mindlessly set up the rifle. Giving them a quick smile each as a good luck, and the last man who I noticed hadn't climbed down yet was fixing his crossbow around his shoulders. As if tightly securing his little angel baby. I almost muttered a few colorful insults but choose not to, as I knew speaking wouldn't help us get the guns in a much better way and most specially, pissing the younger redneck.

I cocked the gun and was headed where I could fully see the streets when I heard a grunt from behind and seeing the redneck nod at me. For some reason, I nod back and it's that when I noticed it's his way of maybe... saying goodbye? Saying good luck? There's a whole lot of meaning behind that grunt and by the heavens would I know them all in one go. He does it every now and then, and I didn't take it as anything but wishing good luck to someone you've been with for so long at camp but still... it's weird.

Upon seeing him leave, I ran to the roof with my teeth gritting as I couldn't help but drag my feet like a kid who's only learned how to walk. This is why I shouldn't settle in sleeping at the bark of trees or missing dinner because of my socially dysfunctional mood. Either I'll be too awkward to sit with the others or Carl and Sophia would tease me endlessly until I spoke. It's the kids that only ever got me to talk, and that was once. They said they'd like to hear my voice again and I assure the midgets they'll never do. I have an unspoken rule about not speaking for the reasons that may have yet to be unfold due to it being buried behind my head, and no way am I breaking that rule under any circumstances.

I guess. Because at the rate I'm going, with the redneck constantly pissing me off, the whole camp got their nerves at the brink of collapsing, and the geeks-or walkers swarming around Atlanta. I guess I'll be needing to voice out each and every curse I've been holding on to ever since.

I reached the end of the roof and lowered down the edge, setting the end of the rifle right by my shoulders and looking through the scope while my heart hammered so hard. This wasn't really something nerve-wracking, but considering that if things go to shit and I have to act, I'll be treading this roof and a ladder just to get there. And that shit would be exhausting and frustrating all at the same time.

I saw Glenn at the scope making his way behind cars and had my finger at the trigger ready if ever shit gets messed up. He jumped through a sack and hid under it, my breath hitching every step this kid makes. Just then, a shout from something at the bottom shook me out of the scope and as I leaned on the left edge, I saw Daryl pointing his crossbow to a kid who can't shut his mouth. I cursed, having to choose between getting the kid out of line in trouble or just shoot the man making a whole lotta noise, but I had to keep my promise.

_Glenn._

I watched through the scope and saw him picked up the bag of guns, go back and even pick up Rick's hat. I had my gun at a ready as he neared the edge and just then, loud grunts echoed from below. I ran, for the fear that shooting the gun might attract more than it already has, and even basically flew down the flight of stairs, only ever having to grasp at the last metal before jumping down and seeing Glenn get taken by two men, one with an arrow right up his left ass. I had Knifey ready but deemed it too late when the car stepped on the gas.

A kid was lying down on the pavement and I didn't need to guess that it's the same kid who shouted his ass of just to attract the walkers. I picked him up by his singlet and gave him a look-Daryl even tried to push me to get to him but one look towards the redneck and he knew I got it. "They took Glenn! That little bastard and little bastard homie friends! I'm gonna kick your ass!" He says while Rick stopped him and T dragging the boy away from my cold hands.

It's as if all the noise and the pressure, coming up to me when T yelled, "Guys! Guys! We're cut off!" We all climbed back to where we came from, and as soon as we did, I crashed on to the hallway, only hearing echoes as they head on to a room with loud colorful words one after the other.

This is a fucking long day and shit is about to get real if they don't let me be just for five minutes. 


	6. She Speaks

"You alright there, boo?" T came up from my left and I had to breathe in before I finally had the strength to face him. I only gave a curt nod, knowing that they already needed me back after that plan going wrong in so many ways. I should've been there with Daryl, not at the fucking rooftop where Glenn has spared me as he saw how tired I was. But no, I tolerated the kid because I didn't think I could do more run. Now he's gone, and we have a captive that seemed to be so stupid it hurts even looking at him.

"We need to know where they went." Rick asked calmly like the good cop he is and I stood just by the corner, my foot shifting weight back and forth just to calm my nerves. Daryl sent me a look and I only nod, seeing as so he's worried the firecracker he knows just might explode right now.

And I'm not keeping promises that I won't. "I ain't telling you nothing!" The boy answered and I curled my fist. Just like what my therapist told me, count one to ten before you commit murder-the therapist part--not exactly, but counting helps.

"What the hell happened back there?!" T asks.

"Told you! This little turd and his douche bag friends came out of nowhere and jumped me!" I tried to tune it all out, the kid's annoying voice, the redneck's exasperated sigh and slurs, and even the casual attempts of kicking the kid right in the face. I tried to think of a plan on how to get pizza boy back because there's no way I'm going back home without him, and I'll get the place either by hook or by crook. But I abruptly stopped the thought when the kid jumped away from the chair with Merle's hand at the floor, I almost gagged.

I stared down the _asshat_ with an arched brow, he only passed me with a glance. Obviously, I'm not the only one not going home without pizza boy.

I side-stepped between Rick calming down Daryl, and T-Dog watching me carefully as I stalked towards the boy. Slouching down and looking him straight in the eye. If he should fear one thing? It shouldn't be his gangster or homies back home, he should be fearing the cold murderous eyes that I have. And he seemed to be when he looked away, scared my stare would take what remains of his pitiful courage in one go. "Kid, you better tell us where your location is before Miss Firecracker here cut your lights off." T encourages the boy who almost pissed his pants and he nodded.

All it took was one look.

Rick devised a plan to get our boy back and I kind of agreed, if it wasn't for my sorry ass being too tired, I could do it myself and not harm another of our men. But I also doubt Mister Southern Asshat would let me retrieve him alone, so this is the second best plan. Rick stated T gets to be the sniper (which I didn't want to be anymore judging by what happened a while ago), and I get to be the back up on the woods as him and Daryl form an exchange with the silly gang.

I even tried to protest but my futile attempt of whistling and shaking my head was useless when Daryl gave me a look that shut me up pretty fast.

I scooped around the forest, just behind some large bush where I can perfectly see them walk towards the big red door. Men came out one by one towards the door, more so thirty of them with fully packed guns that I could name one by one if I had the time. Although once someone started shooting, I don't think all my experience from before would keep two men versus thirty alive. Much less myself.

A man wearing a button down that looked like a laughable gangster went out, and I've seen pretty worse gangsters around New York. But judging by his stance while talking with the two, he seemed pretty unfazed by the gun behind his kid's back.

I licked my dry lips while attempting to translate the movement of his mouth into words but I only got words, 'Asian', which almost made me stood up from hiding. I followed Daryl and Rick's gaze, immediately seeing Glenn at the top of the building with duct tape right at his mouth. Oh they're gonna get it, they're surely gonna get it from me. If there's one thing I stood loyal for no matter how bad I am for conversations and being friendly, it's the people back at the camp. No silly little gangster could easily escape this.

No one.

Rick filled T and I information about what the man wanted. It's obviously the bag of guns, easy to figure that out judging by how contempt they were at not releasing pizza boy in exchange for some kid they wouldn't have a use for in war. "Them guns worth more than gold. Gold won't protect your family or put food on the table." Daryl paced back and forth as if he's deep in thought and I scowled even if he couldn't see. He was willing to sacrifice himself for Merle but not a few guns for a boy who's obviously too smart for us we don't even deserve it. "You willing to give that up for that kid?" I stepped in front of the redneck and bobbed my head to the side, obviously not amused by his thoughts I couldn't begin with where to point out the wrongs.

T pulled me back and the redneck looked as if he's startled, and pissed I did what I did. "If I knew we'd get Glenn back, I might agree. But you think that vato across the way is just gonna hand him over?" T asks while letting me lean on the wall, signing that I should calm down.

"You calling G a liar?" The boy interfered and before anyone could speak, I slouched down in front of him. I'm way too heated and furious right now and if I can't pour that down towards the asshat? Then might as well to the kid. I raised my pointed finger and brought it up my lips, silencing him as I did and continued to bring out the fear in him.

"Do you trust that man's word?" I heard T ask from the background as I still slouched in front of the boy, and him having near close to peeing his pants one more cold look from me. I dragged out Knifey and twirled it in front of him, finalizing inside my head that I do have problems-and this is one of them. I should go find my 'therapist' and hope he's alive to bring me down some notches.

"Glenn worth that to you?" Daryl is starting to piss me off real good and I turned, waiting for one wrong word then I'll have to forget I even tolerate his ass back at camp.

"What life I have, I owe to him. I was nobody to Glenn... just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could've walked away but he didn't. Neither will I."

"So, you're gonna hand the guns over?" I understood where redneck is coming from, I really do. All these guns could keep us alive for so long, judging how we never needed them back at camp to avoid attracting walkers but-there's a whole lot of sources in this world and I could volunteer to go to runs just to get them the amount of guns they need.

Having to be full of it, I whistled, the loud type where T has to cover his ear and sat down at one of the tables. Clearly, disappointed. "Saving Glenn shouldn't be up for a yes or no discussion. He's one of us, and you fucking bet all your asses if you're in that situation, you'll silently pray for your people to come and get you." Three men-who clearly are all startled for the first time ever of hearing my cringe-worthy and too soft voice-stared at me like I'm some kind of a math equation they couldn't figure out. I guess my voice didn't perfectly match my personality, but I had to voice it out.

Saving him was never a choice. It's a necessity, something we need to do for someone who went all the way for us to even behold such weapons even if he's so reluctant of coming back.

"Holy shit." T mumbled and I gulped, maybe voicing it out wasn't the best idea I had for years. But-that's that.

"No handing the gun's over." Rick says after clearing his voice, continuing on loading the guns all the way to home run. T looked away at that, an amused smirk on his lips, and... Daryl. Who I could still feel his lingering gaze upon me. "There's nothing keeping you three here. You should get out, head back to camp."

"Also not up for a discussion." Might as well get used to it. I grabbed one of the rifles and filled it with ammo, seeing the frozen redneck beside me with his forehead scrunched like he had heard for the first time what a ghost sounded like. I only gave him a look and it made him move, grabbing another gun on the table and still passing me quick glances like a confused little puppy.

"That's two times. Holy fucking shit." I glared at T and he raises his hands, grabbing a gun from the table and winking at me.

Speaking might get me to places I didn't want to, but I have to face it now. Me and my dumbass...


	7. Birds

__

The plan was, we all put ourselves in the line of fire. No hiding behind the bushes or on to the rooftop. No pretend snipers, just good ol' straight assault. Like my style, but not much. I rather do it silently, without any noises and without men I care about all around the place where they could get hurt. I'm used to doing everything alone so I don't really play well with the others-but if push comes to shove, I'll have to protect myself, and four asses all at the very same time.

I could only hope this goes easy.

When we reached the same huge door, it opened just as fast and Daryl shoved the kid first while we follow. Big men who I didn't want to underestimate scattered the whole place, carrying batons, baseball bats and large guns, surrounding us. "I see my guns, but they're not all in the bag." The leader blurted out as if he got his name printed on each gun. I held tightly on the rifle, pointing it straight to the guy at my right who only has his bat at hand, I flashed him a small smile and he widen his eyes. I don't doubt my whole, rifle on hand, knifes on my sheaths and my shiny G36 on a holster was that frightening, was it?

"That's because they're not yours. I thought I mentioned that." Rick played both good cop and bad cop so well I might just give him a tap in the back if we live through this. The hillbilly on the other hand, turned to me with a familiar look that I answered with a curt nod. The look was something along the lines of 'you good?' which I'm kind of getting hanging with.

"Let's just shoot these fools right now, ese." The man who I knew Daryl struck with a bolt right up his ass didn't seem to get it all removed as he added more fuel to the fire, encouraging the laughable gangster of getting us done right then and there. Suddenly, my attention to the panicky man with a bat has been forgotten when my rifle pointed straight at him-the looks of his fellow man anxious by the minute.

The leader looked straight at me with a scowl which I only replied with another of my innocent smile. "I don't think you fully appreciate the gravity of the situation." My brow raised. Rick spared me a glance before answering.

"No, we're pretty clear." He cut the ties around the boy's hand and shoved him towards his family quite harshly than the Rick I've grown accustomed with for hours. Seems like this new guy had more than I thought he already has. "You have your man. I want mine."

"I'm gonna chop up your boy. I'm gonna feed him to my dogs. Three of the evilest, nastiest, man-eating bitches you ever saw. I picked them up from Satan at a yard sale." I snorted, the leader warranting me another cautious glance that didn't even scared me for one bit. "I told you how it has to be. Are you woefully deaf?"

"No, my hearing's fine. You said come locked and loaded." Rick cocked his gun with the rest of everyone in the whole place following, mine cocking last while I bobbed my head to the side, seeing the hillbilly's attention to me which when his eyes went to another direction, points me to where we can run and hide should the firefight start. I glanced at T afterwards, knowing he's going to be fully covered in his direction, and knowing I'll have to drag Mister Good Cop if it comes to it. "Okay then, we're here." The worst thing that could possibly happen aside from dying is filling my body with holes worse than a Swiss cheese, or get possibly turned if these hooligans failed to bury us and a walker decides to make us their appetizer.

"Felipe! Felipe!" A voice of a woman suddenly halted the stand-off and she appeared right behind the man with an arrow right up his ass-metaphorically.

"Abuela, go back with the others. Now." The man cautioned hastily as guns pointed right at each other's faces isn't the best place for an old woman. But she was unstoppable, like she hadn't had the slightest idea that we're on the brink of killing each other.

"Get that old lady outta the line of fire." Daryl blurted out at once.

"Abuela, listen to your mijo, okay? This is not the place for you right now." Their attempts of getting the old woman away from the place was useless when she continued,

"Mr. Gilbert is having trouble breathing. He needs his asthma stuff. He needs his medicine." She explained urgently and I admit, I lost a place of empathy nor sympathy in my heart a long, long time ago. Buried it underneath for reasons that I still had to block out of my head-so, my only goal now is to not pull the trigger with the old lady being around. I might have not such feelings-but I still have morals, like I said.

The older woman seemed to notice strangers in front of her, slowly she went over to Rick. "Don't you take him. Felipe's a good boy. He has his troubles but he pulls himself together." Ain't that everyone of us? "We need him here."

Oh, shit. Wait... did she thought... Rick's... uniform... "Ma'am? I'm not here to arrest your grandson." Somewhere deep down chest of buried and forgotten emotions, something kind of... clicked.

"Then what do you want him for?"

"He's helping us find a missing person. Fella named Glenn." Daryl glanced at me when I lowered my gun while all of them were still cautiously at stance. I... didn't know if it was exhaustion or my ignorance of having to feel for the old woman the did it-but I didn't think I could point at someone just right then in front of her.

"The Asian boy? He's with Mr. Gilbert. Come, come. I show you. He needs his medicine." Rick looked at me and I urged, having to follow them while my rifle was cast down and my hands only hovering over Knifey like it's my lifeline. Well, it is. The thing that helps me stop pulling my wholeness apart-something that has been with me for so long.

"Let 'em pass." The rest followed us with cautious looks as if both parties has plans to sabotage the other but also, guided us out of the empty building and towards to another one with stairs we had to climbed through. We ended up right at another peaceful building, one with no other sound than our footsteps breaking leaves under our boot or the birds chirping outside like it's one helluva good day. We entered the building and my first train of thought went instantly to it being a hospital, but not after treading the hallway and seeing so as it's filled with old people.

An institution for the old.

We ended up in a large ball-room filled with tables that seemed to have been transformed as a cafeteria, feeling a nudge beside me with the redneck asking me using his eyes. I only cast him a quick glance before leading my betraying eyes somewhere. My eyes quickly landed to the familiar cap, pizza boy standing right with the crowd of older people. Relief lacing through my chest when he's not savaged by the man-eating dogs that when T pointed, were Chihuahuas. The bluff is almost effective though, if not for the slight flinch in the eyes of their leader a while ago.

I gathered pizza boy's attention, studying him and he seemed to understood. "I'm fine, they didn't do anything aside from a few threats." I nod in understanding, giving him a small smile as I went over one table and sat there. My feet are killing me with the unforgiving time of wearing the boots, and I have been thinking about judging these people way too much when we would've done what they had. It's easy to read the situation just by the look on their faces, big muscled men taking care of older people. Not an easy task, and like I am with the camp, easy to kill through every each one that gets in my way.

Rick called to G and I didn't want to follow when Daryl appeared right in front of me with a raised brow. "Come and get yur ass of off there." I quickly rolled my eyes after he turned. Weren't they just as exhausted as I am? Can't blame them for my own wrongdoings these past few days but if it wasn't for this hick dragging me all the way to the other side of town just for his brother, I wouldn't be here.

"The people we've encountered since things fell apart, the worst kind-plunderers, the kind that take by force." He explained while I take a seat beside T.

"That's not who we are." Rick stated.

"How was I to know? My people got attacked and you showed up with Miguel as hostage? Appearances." His eyes suddenly darted to me and I decided to hold it, not until he's the one who took off and change his mine about challenging me into one. I don't really look like someone that could do that. With the dirty tank speckled of walker blood, my fitted jeans that give the idea I've gone through war, and most certainly my blonde hair. I could pass quickly as a dumb blonde that only cares about nails and boys at fraternities-and he judged me by appearance?

"Guess the world changed." T mumbled lowly beside me.

I plan on muting them out for as long as I can, but not until I heard the bit of the conversation, "The people here, they all look to me now. I don't even know why."

"Because they can."

Rick handed a few rifles to the man. It certainly didn't surprise me as his heart is filled with the goodness left to the world-the thing I don't think I'm still left with.

This Officer might just change the world if it hasn't gone completely in shit. I'll vote for him as a president.

"Admit it, you only came back to Atlanta for the hat." Glenn joked while we walk back to the secluded train tracks. If it weren't for the heat, I would've never complained but it was beginning to tick me off that I moaned and cursed like a little kid. "Did-did she just said 'fuck this shit?' Am I the only one who heard that?!" Glenn stopped from walking with a much startled face, with T-Dog laughing at him in the process. Oh, right. Pizza boy doesn't know that I can talk now, like a normal human being.

"She'd done it three times now." T pats his back and followed the two who continued walking, casting quick glances with smile on their faces-aside from the killjoy redneck, of course.

"Don't get used to it." I whispered towards pizza boy as I dragged him by the shoulders and continued walking, his face still filled with bewilderment by the sudden discovery. I might regret this when T started opening his mouth to everyone about hearing me talk, and losing points in my reputation of being someone mysterious. But then again, like I said, the little things.

"You've given away half our guns and ammo." Mister Southern Asshat says.

"Not nearly half."

"For what? Bunch of old farts who are gonna die off momentarily anyhow?" I rolled my eyes so suddenly it almost went at the back of my head. "Seriously, how long do you think they got?"

"How long do any of us?" I smirked. Officer Rick Grimes is growing on me and I might just want to keep him to crush down this redneck like a freaking Hulk-with words though.

I froze on my steps when we came around the discarded bus, dragging Glenn with me as my arms were still around his shoulders. He was gonna ask me why-but didn't need as all of them noticed what I just did. "Oh my god." Uh-huh.

"Where the hell's our van?"

"We left it right there! By the tracks! Who would take it?"

"Merle." The way it went around his mouth, I couldn't almost believe it-just almost. But upon remembering they kind of marooned the guy on a rooftop in Atlanta's not best weather, he would positively and straight up do this shit.

"He's gonna be taking some vengeance back to camp."

Birds with the same feathers think alike, I'm proud I changed the saying. 


	8. She Hits

If you haven't eaten anything right for months, don't sleep for more than four hours due to being an insomniac, and didn't brought any water for the reason of carrying lightly, your lungs and legs would most like give up on you like a damn piece of branch under a deer's hove.

It felt like my own body has been straight-up unforgiving, limiting me of the air I needed no matter how hard I breathe through it, and it even left a stench of both dead and earth. This is not the worst I've been through, but the worst I've been in since the damn apocalypse. Maybe I should really be friendly to everyone back at camp, by that I could eat my food peacefully with them, or take long-ass naps and make it up by hunting more foods for everyone. That should suffice, doesn't it?

"Ahhhh!"

The shrill sound of screams made my heart race so fast it almost fell out of my chest. My need for breath and water completely thrown out of the window as I run like I did on the triathlon, my harms grabbing G36 right by the holster and cocking it just the same amount of time I came through the campsite and shoot straight for the head of one walker bound to get Morales' wife.

Blood. Gunshots. And our people... sprawled on the floor while walkers feed on them. My heart continued to hammered through my chest, getting consecutive hits of every walker I spotted. Making damn sure it went through and through while I heave my way into protecting what's left of us. They were too many coming from all different directions, one even from behind me that I successfully roundhouse with and avoided.

Three appeared on my left and I didn't had the time to pull the trigger as they began crowding on me, knowing those all would be futile shots and I'll be wasting ammo that we needed more than ever. I let go of the gun altogether, grabbing the leather handle of Knifey and another one smaller than it, my arms flying towards the nearest one and hearing a crack followed by goo spilling out of its brain when I pulled the knife away. Kicking the one at the center and ducking the arms of the one in the right with a face that looked like he'd been starving for months now as he turned and reached to me, but I already had my hands on a stance and it dove over his head, quickly slashing it out before boring two knives at the head of the one at the center.

I pulled the knife away, their corpse lying on the ground in no under than five minutes. My hands covered in disgusting walker blood and goo all at the same time as I put all of it back in the sheaths after wiping it on the geek's clothes and finding my G36 under one geek's arms.

My hands were all weary when Rick started shouting Carl's name, turning and inspecting every corner when my arms halted on to Jim, "Easy there, doll." He raises both his hands and as soon as my ears were complete of off gunshots, I rest my hand down.

My hands went right back up and his eyes widen, not until my final shot at the walker stalking behind him completely transformed the place only filled with shrilling sounds of wailing. Something that crept up under my skin, something I refused to hear. "Done." I muttered under my breath and the black spot surrounding my eyes took over, it's like all the exhaustion and adrenaline crashing at an alarming rate I couldn't handle anymore, but not until a pair of strong hands beat me to falling right at the ground and carried me like a child. My head refused to be carried, it made me weak, it made me useless, but my body gave up on me. Proved that I'm not superhuman—and that I'm probably stupid for exerting too much energy.

"Ya good?" The only one of us with the southern accent spoke, and I nod. Feeling him lay me down somewhere cold which I'm guessing was Dale's reclining chair while I attempt to get my vision back. The smell of both blood and the dead drenching the air that almost made me gag, but stopping myself from doing so since I could only handle much.

"Is it clear?" I asked, still wary of my surrounding as I hold tightly to my gun. My finger ready to pull the trigger may there be any threats left.

"It's clear, lil bit." I blinked a few times harshly before it slowly came back, feeling all my joints hurt terribly, and the rate of my heart suddenly coming back to normal. Just not before I saw the whole place. It looked like a battlefield, something I knew I would come up with sooner rather than later, but did not expect that some were our people. People I've grown accustomed with, people I've been vowed to protect. "Hey, hey. Calm down." It's only then that I noticed I was back at heaving again. This isn't how it's supposed to be, right?

This isn't.

I could've been here to protect them—but... no. "Amy..." My eyes suddenly darted near the RV and I had to pushed Daryl out of the way to only crash a few feet away from the girl lying on the ground. She's... covered in so many blood, a distinct bite right by the neck while her eyes were closed. I couldn't speak, I couldn't even cry, I couldn't feel anything other than anger. We could've avoided all of these if I had stayed, if we didn't panic and decided to run. It hurts to see the woman I've grown fond with, lying on the ground lifeless. And I hadn't even felt hurt for so long...

"I remember my dream now, why I dug the holes."

*

I slept, and I hated every bit of it. My body seemed to have loved the idea of rest, my joints throbbing less, my mouth still dry for having to drink nothing since yesterday, but my heart. Something inside it seemed to have been nagging me for a while now, like a twinge of both sadness and guilt I still refuse to own up to.

I went out of the tent with new clothes. A new tank that fit too tight, but gets the job done, and newly washed jeans that were neatly folded right by the end of my tent. I snuck in my boots and gathered all my weapons as I went outside, feeling a tad bit good weather—with a heavy dash of sorrow.

I sat a few inches away from Andrea as soon as I went out. I forgot all about the water, and she didn't seem to mind that I'm with her even if we hardly ever stand each other. She held on to Amy, refusing to leave at all and I could understand that. I could feel her emotions just by sitting beside her, and the pinch on my chest began once more. Like creatures eating up the wooden box I covered it with, exposing my heart with such... emotions.

I couldn't remember the last time I felt this. The last time I mourned for someone and felt it right under my skin. The last time I felt like being suffocated, or the last time I felt like I had to cry. Being alone for so long and trained not to feel anything has its pros, where this wouldn't happen at all. But the damn apocalypse came, and there it proved that the government hadn't toughen me enough to stop going back to being the fragile girl I long to forget. It was a weakness, proven to be used against you once people find it out. The one weakness I still refuse to take over me.

Lori came behind Andrea and called to her, the blonde refusing to look even if Lori already expressed her respects. She looked at me and I offered her a shrug, not something I'm willing to come across with either. She just lost her sister, she's not someone to be messed around with yet. "She's gone. You gotta let us take her." She still refused to move, she just sat there like a statue, looking towards Amy as if it would kill her the same if she moved. "We all cared about her and I promised we'll be as gentle as we can." I looked back at Amy and knew that she has a bite—but not one hole right at her head.

She still can... turn.

Lori's attempts were useless as she still refused to move so much as an inch, and I decided to follow where they are just across the RV while I gather myself something to drink. I could sit there all day but couldn't let myself die of thirst when we should all be cautious of having another herd come to us. I could only take this so much—but not if we lose another one. I can't let that happen anymore.

I heard a loud force of something hitting the ground and saw Daryl, taking care of the rest of the walkers and making damn sure they don't reanimate once again. His grunts the only sound resonating on the woods as T and Glenn dragged the bodies to the fire beside it. I could remember how he transformed into another human being last night, it's as if he had been always someone that closely looked into people at camp, the way he reassured me was so unlike him I wonder if that was either from shock or he had always been a soft hillbilly. I dismissed the latter.

"She's been there all night." Lori muttered, pity evident on her voice as I down another cup of water. My body thanking me after refusing to have an appetite for anything yesterday-and these past few months. "What do we do?"

"Can't just leave Amy like that. We need to deal with it. Same as the others." Shane muttered lowly.

"I'll tell her how it is." Rick hadn't had the chance to finish saying her name when she pulled the gun right out of her holster and pointed it straight at him. I hovered my hands around my gun in an act of instinct, but decided against it as I knew she didn't have it in her. She just wants to be left alone. Andrea... needs to be left alone. Slowly, Rick backs up as everyone were on their stance, and I decided to heave my head away from the dead girl on the ground. I can't... look at her like that. I just can't.

"Ya'll can't be serious, let that girl hamstring us?" A hush voiced beside me spoke, knowing who it is already just by the voice—and just by how he stood near me unlike everybody else. Daryl has always been someone that could let his authority tower over you, but not me. He knew just as much how I hate it when he does—and knew that he should go away far from me if he's gonna spout redneck nonsense right now. I'm always right. The Daryl that caught me half-way passing out was only because of the mere shock, and that he hadn't meant to just care like that. Daryl is not the average boy in some chick flick fantasy that'll turn 360° in onr click. He's like that asshole guy from the Breakfast Club. One you hate so much right in the gut but you knew he's more to that. At least I do... I'm trained to do so... "That girl's a time bomb."

"What do you suggest?" Rick asked, but knowing Daryl, I knew what he's clearly on about.

"Take the shot. Clean, in the brain from here. Hell, I can hit a turkey between the eyes from this distance." I closed my eyes and pursed my lips, Lori seemed to know that my patience is at a limit and if this redneck doesn't shut up soon, I'm damn sure I'll make him.

"No, for god's sakes. Let her be." She intruded and the others look at each other, agreeing with one another while the redneck looks at me, as if he knew that I shared the same brain with him and that I should agree with him. I do, to an extent. This is one of the things that aren't supposed to be up for any discussion. Andrea, the real family she had is here. She saw how the life went out of her eyes so we can't just go and shoot her sister without considering her own decision. It had to be her that does it, not us.

Not today, hillbilly. "Should'a known." He left with a slight shake on his head and my ears peaked. What exactly did he mean by that!? He could mean anything and my brain isn't about right to function with his southern phrases right now.

I trailed behind him towards the row of our dead people, having to feel the pinch in my chest just by looking at them, but also contemplating if I should waste my voice towards this asshole. He and Morales carried one of ours while I thought about what he just said when they started going towards the fire. My mouth opened to speak as to ask why when Glenn stood up. "Our people go in that row over there. We don't burn them! We bury them. Understand?" I almost gave Glenn a huge pat in the back but stopped myself near the jeep and tapped my foot. Daryl is beginning to get over my nerves today and I don't have a lot of pull not to act upon it.

They carried it once again towards where they'd be buried, Daryl muttering something right after, "Ya'll left my brother for dead. You had this coming!" My knuckles formed in a fist and was about to break his jaw into two when Jacqui yelled something.

"A walker bit Jim!" Everyone gathered rather quickly around him, too quick as if he'll be turning in thirty seconds. Fear bellowing all of the people while I quietly make my way towards the man.

"Show it to us." Daryl appeared with a pickaxe right by his shoulders that seemed to have frighten Jim more that as he backs up, he bumped into me, causing for me to drag him away before anyone else gets the bright idea to shove him to the ground in another chokehold. I hold one finger up to everyone else, all of them knowing my warning look and turning over to Jim as I held tight over his shirt.

"Show it to me." He paused slightly upon hearing my voice, but nods slowly as I lifted his shirt and gritted through my teeth when a distinct bite showed around the side of his stomach. Blood coming out of the fresh red bite that caused my chest to feel another pinch.

"I'm okay, Ramona." He breathed out as if he fears so much and a hand pulled me away, lifting his shirt one more time for everyone to see. The rest backs away when they saw his bite but I stayed, the ache in my heart increasing drastically as I feel for this nice man. He's rough around the corners albeit nothing but nice... he doesn't deserve this.

"Ramona, guard Jim." Rick's voice resonated behind me and I mindlessly nod, hearing Jim mutters repeatedly that he's okay. I pulled him away by his shirt towards the other side of the RV and let him sit on a small chair. I leaned beside him as I see the gathered people at the other side, knowing all too well what's bound to happen to Jim. People are frightened, and they tend to act upon it rather stupidly. I've figured that out ever since the start of the apocalypse, and feared I may have attached myself in a group that doesn't do a lot of thinking.

"Since when did you start talking?" I looked at Jim with my hands crossed at my chest, amusement lacing on his tone. I admire his positivity despite the distinct bite on his stomach, but feel something more I didn't want to feel anymore.

I bit my lip upon thinking if I should answer, but thought better since we're the only ones here, and it's the least I could assure him. The little things. Always those. "Yesterday. Kind of spooked them off while we're on the run." I quietly muttered and he chuckles.

"Kinda spooked me as well, didn't know I'll ever be hearing your voice."

I smiled. "Don't get used to it." I winked, causing for him to faintly chuckle once more. I'm glad me talking, were their entertainment. It pisses me off—but makes me happy to see them happy with that small discovery.

I watch the group talk and followed their mouths, confirming my theory was right all along. It didn't last long when their voices got a little higher, and Jim getting a little fidgety all of a sudden. Who's not gonna be scared when they're talking about either killing you, or bringing you somewhere on a place we're unsure off. I couldn't imagine—your fate, on the hands of chicken-hearted people? Isn't that just some shitty luck. Something all of us are bound to have.

I don't even know why I stayed here... I remember knowing nothing but being alone, remember nothing of the happy moments a family could bring. This is chaos, this is having to be selfish. "Someone needs to have some balls to take care of the damn problem."

The second I look, Daryl ran towards where we are with a pickaxe at a ready, Shane screaming to stop. I stopped in front of Jim and gave Daryl a look. The same time Rick cocked a gun on his head. "We don't kill the living." I remember the same scenario from yesterday, and if we're gonna do it everyday, I think I'm gonna need to rattle this hick's brain a bit.

Shane walk closer to me with a rifle at his hand, looking at me as if asking if I'm okay which I surely am, and would feel much better when I get my knuckles to hit this jerk in front of me. This is where I'm starting to regret why I've learned to grow attached to everyone at this place. Some are just too shitty to tolerate, and a certain man has no sense of humanity in his body.

Survival is what we need—but merciful killing isn't. "That's funny coming from a man who just put a gun to my head."

"We may disagree on some things, not on this. You put it down. Go on." Daryl stacked the axe on the ground while Rick motioned for Jim. I left just at that, following Daryl towards the woods where he kicked the ground like a child who was not given a candy, someone who wasn't let to watch the TV, or didn't get a bike as a present. He didn't notice me from the way my foot hits the ground so I had to whistle. "What chu doin' right 'ere?!" He half yelled with an exasperated voice as he grabs hair out of his head, surprised he didn't pull away a bunch and leave him a bald spot.

"What?! You just gonna gawk there, bitch?!" He called me those when he's pissed off, and most of the time? I'd let him. It goes to the right and way passed the left, but today? With everything building up like a bitch to me, he's gonna get it. "Fuckin' mute." He muttered and looked away, rookie mistake.

My knuckles suddenly connected right at his jaw which caught him off-guard, sending him down the ground while he spat out blood from the mere force and looks at me with those silvery blues filled with hate and shock. "The fuck was that for?!" He massages his jaw as he stayed on the ground, I breath a loud sigh of relief from doing that to him.

"I stood by you when you asked me to come find your brother, I stood by you even if he as so much tried to grope my butt the first time we met and you did nothing—but never," I slouched down, holding a finger right at his face. "—never asked me to stand by your decisions of killing people I vowed to protect. Never fucking underestimate me, Daryl Dixon. I could only stand by you for so long, but not for the reasons your southern ass can't and won't try to understand."

His face softens—like the first I ever saw it but I left right before he could say anything more.


	9. Hopes

I sat quietly at the tail of the truck, calming my erratic nerves while the rest of them payed respects to Amy as Andrea pulled the corpse of her little sister right inside a hole that Jim previously had dug. I didn't had the slightest strength to hoists myself away from the revolting stench of the truck towards the rest of where they stood, for the sole reason that I can't watch one of us getting... buried. Dead. It felt like I have failed the whole group with her death.

I was the first to walk away as soon as her corpse completely disappeared six feet under. Brushing over my blades and feeling a pinch over my completely stone cold heart. I found myself staying beside the RV, sitting down in one of the reclining chairs while I stare on to my red knuckles. After giving the hillbilly a one-over, I tried my best to stay away from his way. It wasn't for the fear he might hit back, it's for my own fear of watching him and remembering just how much I hate him and had unnecessarily tolerated him for the months I've been with this group.

The group filled with so much vulnerability and fear.

Rick and Lori walked past me, and on towards the RV which I'm guessing they'll be checking Jim. It didn't take long before Lori and Carol went out, and Rick followed after a few minutes. Going over to my direction and leaning on the side as he did. "You okay?" He asked, the weariness on his face clearly evident, much less his dull blue eyes. I replied with a nod, feeling a sense of regret looming over the two of us. May it be the same thought of blaming ourselves for not being here, or something else. Either or, it's clouding over us like a fucking rain ruining the sunshine.

Not long and Lori, together with Shane, huddled over the RV while they considered going over the plans of either staying in this god forsaken woods, or towards where we could possibly (and doubtfully) find help. It was a game of chance, none of which Shane would want to risk, but had no choice nonetheless. The perimeter of the quarry goes way beyond than god knows where, it wouldn't take long before we wake up one day ran over with a swarm of walkers around every corners.

I am not risking that again.

Going over to the woods to avoid the conversation and staying at the top of the trees was the best way to be at whenever I feel like the whole world is suffocating me. Before this, before all of this man-eating brainless assholes, the noise didn't bother me as much. It was my everyday course, most importantly whenever I'm on missions in a far away land filled with the threat of a missile possibly launching on to the earth, or bombs going off left and right. The exchange of gunshots felt like home to me, it was what comforted me and brought me back to sanity when we had the longest breaks and all I could hear was the noise of the world.

From gossips, to loud televisions, to neighbors fucking around whenever they want. In a way, I was never normal. I could pass as insane, as out of my mind, but that was just because I never really learned what it was to be as a normal kid for starters. "What did you say to me?" A voice hissed below me and it was all too familiar. I decided to move a little bit to see the hush conversation going down below when my dumb attempt of securing my foot in another branch caused to break it and made a crunching sound that almost echoed in the woods.

I saw the two halted their heated argument and went different ways with their shotguns held high, I was going to let them know I was the idiot who spooked them when I decided against it for the core fear of getting accidentally shot by the two of them. I stayed there, cautious and silent as I watch Rick go towards his right while Shane stayed and at the left without much of a movement. The gesture made me frown and as I now move, slowly and surely, towards another secure branch, I found myself looking at Shane--his gun raised and pointed towards Rick... As if he's contempt on shooting him--even following his movements.

Hastily, I grabbed on to my G36 and pointed it right at him, my gun at a ready if I see even the slightest movement of his fingers towards the trigger when Dale appeared right beside him, the exact same time he lowered the gun and startled himself upon seeing the old man terrifyingly muttered "Jesus." at what he just witnessed. It didn't take a genius to piece it all together. I didn't attend college and it didn't take me long to realize this was about jealousy, with a dash of insanity towards Shane as days passed by. He's way worse than me, and that's speaking in a bad way. My sudden care for the people at the camp crept up on my shoulders and right after all three of them left, I decided it was high time to step the fuck up and not let anyone die in this group.

May it be from the baring teeth of the walkers, or Shane's insanity.

Going back to the camp, I stood beside Dale as Shane started telling us all about Rick's plan. His sudden interest in the plan could've been about the way he almost shot his best friend out of pure spite. "Now look, there are no guarantees either way. I'll be the first one to admit that." Shane says, his eyes glancing around everyone including me, and stopping abruptly before it darted over to Rick. "I've know this man a long time. I trust his instincts." I almost snorted, but stopped myself as telling Rick his best-est friend in the universe almost shot him head on? I doubt this group would stay together amidst this whole crisis. "I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together. So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning."

The damage from the night the walkers had taken over some people from our group are so severe some people are still shaken. The low embers of the fire loomed over those who prefer to stay up, and that included me. Daryl originally took the first watch, but Dale also decided to stay up, as with T-Dog who sat at the most uncomfortable green chair ever. I decided to stay farther away from them, and near where the other entrance on the wood is, my ears at a ready for any leaves breaking under footsteps.

Daryl, who I still hate with all my guts, walked over with annoyance drawn on his face as this was his time to be alone. But considering all matters at hand, he had no choice but to throw out his best scowl, although surprisingly, he sat comfortably at the other tree across from me. Only the sound of the fire crackling bellowed the whole woods, and T's consecutive heaving.

It had been peaceful for quite a few hours, my hands drifting over to a branch of wood and using Knifey to carve out a makeshift spear for no reason. Sleep hadn't called me yet, and I doubt it will--but most importantly, knew this would bite me in the back once again. "Will ya stop fiddlin' around that thing and go to sleep?" The redneck spat in a hushed irritated tone, my eyes darting towards him with a raised brow.

"Will ya get yur knickers off on a twist and mind yur own goddamn business?" I say, copying the same redneck tone and slang in a worst possible way like I'm in some god-awful comedy show with a really horrible sense of humor--add, offensive. Daryl stopped for a moment, his eyes turning into slits until he loosely let himself go with an amused smirk. One that I was surprised to see when I'm getting ready for more southern drawl I'll surely be losing into for the reason that I don't talk much--and that I don't do well in southern phrases.

"Bless your heart." He says, shaking his head with the stupid smirk on his face. I didn't know if it was a compliment or another of his phrases that I wouldn't get--but I ignored it. In hopes that I would forget all about him once again, as if he never existed. "Yur not even good at carving." He blurted out, as if he never meant for me to hear but the silence enunciate his gravelly voice, causing for me to hear it perfectly.

"Don't ever judge my woodwork."

"And now yur talkative." I opened my mouth to say something when he stood up and eyed me, "Thought for a moment there yur the least annoying person at the camp." I dramatically hanged my mouth in disbelief as if I'm shocked but turned my expression three sixty into, 'Do I look like I care?'

"Aren't you just a peach tonight, Dixon?" I muttered, finally letting go of my glorious woodwork and setting down Knifey back to its place. I stretched out my feet while leaning on the hard-ass tree, and heard one final word from the redneck himself.

"Keep talking, lil bit."

* 

  
"What?" I muttered towards the hick as I watch him secure his bike on the back of his truck and hear his routine of minutely grunts with a mix of his hourly deep scowls. He sparred me one glance before tightening his baby up, and boarding the truck with a loud bang on the door. Enough for meters of geeks away to hear him have PMS. I lean on the door at the other side of the truck and bobbed my head as if asking what his problem was and he only rolled his eyes.

I took my heave and opened the door, setting myself snuggly on the truck and closing it, feeling a sense of awkwardness and tension into the air I swear it could cut out a geek in half. I was about to speak out loud when Daryl narrowed his eyes on me. "World's much better when ya don't speak." I ignored his last sentence in hopes of making the day at least tolerable. I never agreed in Rick's decision to pair me up with this man, and never agreed to be with terms to him and avoid killing him at the whole ride amidst my great hate towards him. The idea of putting two enemies inside one room to have them be at peace to each other was a load of bull, and whoever thought of that must've killed the other person and hid it to make it such a wisdom.

Morales leaving with one of our firearm must've pissed the redneck beside me as he occasionally shake his head in disappointment even if it's just one gun, and not even one of the best gun we have. His morals are going way down low to the gutter, and I don't doubt for a second he'll kill me if I attempt to touch his beloved bolt and bike.

"Stop being so pissed about that one gun." I finally said as we drove with the caravan, and as it got harder and harder to ignore his scowl. "We have loads, Dixon. And they deserve to have at least one." It hurts to see a portion of our group decided to part ways but it is what it is, and I still vow to protect the people left from anything that may harm them.

"What we have is low amo, and a big-ass group. We'll be killed in seconds if we give away the only thing that keeps us alive." The longest, most reasonable, and actually less hick-ish words he muttered for the time of knowing him, and I'm actually quite impressed to the point that I almost forgot about what he said altogether and wonder if something possessed our infamous redneck.

"A big group is what we have, and the odds of us surviving are bigger than the odds of their small family." A hint of bitterness in my voice was so obvious I knew he could hear through it. "If you suck it up, things aren't so bad than what it looks like." He huffs, "Like me, speaking."

"Ya right." I could practically hear him rolling his eyes and I chuckled at that, but then paused when Rick's car in front of us, slowly halted at a narrow road. My hands immediately found Knifey but before I could draw it out, everyone else went out of their cars and a distinct smoke came out at the head of the caravan. Specifically, in Dale's RV.

Daryl and I's hunter skills were at par when we went out of the truck both at the same time and looked like hawks eyeing out on the great wide forest amidst that road. We can never be too sure and we don't really take our chances anymore. Once that I know we're clear on my side, I tread towards the RV and right beside Carol who's wearily looking at her surroundings. "The hose didn't hold up." She muttered as if she had read my mind and was about to ask what's going on.

"Ya'll, Jim--it's bad. I don't think he can take anymore." The mere sound of edge in Jacqui's voice as she went in and out of the RV just as fast to tell us news about Jim's health was too concerning I almost stormed inside. I managed to think twice and let Rick do it as I didn't think my below average communication and zero caring skills are needed when the going gets tough. I might have to ask the women of the group to teach me a thing or two about human basics as I've had to much of the hunting and deadly skills at hand to even have time to care for basic human interaction.

We waited outside the RV while Shane and T scouts the perimeter for more supply, and Rick held the fort while he's inside. The tension once again cutting in each and every one of us until several minutes later as the two came back, Rick went down from the RV with an expression I never wanted to see--but had expected either way. A few pain killers and medicines won't relieve a bite from a geek, and this decision of clinging into hope that they did were way above and beyond the reach of miracles.

You don't get to be bit and pray to be healed. I don't even think anyone could still fix this mess--and that's coming from a girl who knew way too much about the government's experiments.

"It's what he says he wants." Rick muttered as he looked dreadful as everyone else in Jim's decision of getting left behind. I, myself wouldn't even want to consider his decision even if the hopes of getting cured were zero to none.

"And he's lucid?"

"He seems to be. I would say yes." I vowed to protect what's left of our group but the mere thought of having no strength to protect those whose already been bitten? Something inside me moved. Something cracked into those solid walls.

"Back in the camp when I said Daryl might be right, and you shut me down. You misunderstood. I would never go along with callously killing a man. I was just gonna suggest that we ask Jim what he wants. And I think we have an answer."

It came to that. As Rick and Shane carefully helped him out of the RV and towards a tree uphill. The sight of him looking like everything is painful, had caused me to step back and look away. I've seen things similar to this, seen way worse than this--but seeing it happen to one of us? To one of the people I wanted to protect? It's impossible to watch it. "Mona?" Glenn asked reassuringly as he paused beside me, I looked at him and nod seeing as his eyes looked like it's asking if I was okay.

Which in fact, I was not. And it's not an easy thing to say.

Everyone took turns into speaking with him, and every last one that steps back with tears brimming on their eyes felt like shit to me. Overwhelming feelings crashing to me face first.

One by one taking their turns to say good bye until it's only Daryl and me. "I--uh." I managed to breathe out but Jim only laughs, as much as he could.

"I--I know. You don't have to say it out loud." He smiles, not minding his pain as he reassures me but that exact moment? Something hit my chest.

"I can't breathe." I managed to whisper as I began to step back, further back away from Jim while watching him look pale as a ghost, and heave for his breathe as if he's been limited with it. The struggle he's having in between breaths, and the thought looming over my mind in circles. "I-I can't breathe." Cold calloused hands grip my forearm and when my hazy vision looked forward, familiar blue eyes looked straight at me, those eyes asking questions I suddenly knew. "Air." He seemed to have understood what I meant when he pulled me, not allowing me to look back anymore as we back down further away from the tree and towards the truck, letting me lean at the back of it while I still struggle to catch my breath.

I've never cared for anything for so long, and never felt such feeling and emotion for so long that the waves hit me ten times worse than tsunamis. It washed away everything as I try to build it back, but it's there. The broken wall covering the fragile girl inside had a hole in it, and it's becoming impossible to ignore.

"Lil' bit. We have to go." He says as carefully as he could and I nod, hazily following the direction he's leading me and numbly holding on to the railing as I hoist myself up. The door closing slightly woke me up from the daze but it's still there, and it's becoming harder to fight myself on looking outside and towards that... that tree.

Daryl wasted no time in driving away and I could only finally release the breath I'm holding when we're miles away from that tree. Miles away from Jim.

By sundown, we reached the CDC and every second, it's as if the darkness would win over the whole place. And by place, the whole highway filled with corpse, and a wretched smell that instantly hit my face like a wheeler truck at full speed. It was by no way livable, and by any means the CDC would still be functioning at the number they did outside. The graveyard of dead people--and geeks swarmed around as we circled on the barricades for as fast as we can, with eyes scanning every possible direction for alive ones.

Everyone kept coughing out and gagging while going around the stretch of corpse and I myself wasn't an exception when I pulled up my shirt ahead of my nose and still, didn't help the lingering scent of the dead in the air. Everyone else, but me, kept making so many sounds that I'm afraid I might have to induct stealth lessons to each and everyone just to keep everybody else safe at times like this.

We finally reached the CDC doors with still, bodies placed in every corner, trying my best to hop out of one in the hopes of keeping our line of circle in it's best shape, even if it's hardly even a circle for starters. Until the very doors, and up until Shane and Rick tried prying the doors open. I open my mouth to speak but the very smell almost had a taste in it, like shit covered in twice the amount of another worse type of shit that seemed to have made it harder for me to even mutter a coherent word without the bile taste of vomit threatening to fall out of my mouth.

Shane tried to bang on the wall but I've had it with the noise, and it looked like the redneck beside me was too. "T-Those are military grade barriers. You can't just pry it open with your bare hands!" I hastily whispered as I try to keep my cool amidst the whole smell of the graveyard, and the thought of having to practically stand outside in the open with no more than noisy guns as a defense in any case of these corpse coming back to life once again.

"Walkers!" Daryl called out and immediately, my hands found Knifey at the sheaths and my hands already at the stance-- the smell being the second of the priority with protecting this group as the main one. "You led us into a graveyard!" Daryl spiraled around and storms toward Rick when I managed to pull back his arms even if touching is a no go for him.

"He made a call!" Daryl only glared at me as he tries to get out of my grasp but the main mission of protecting everyone else in their palpable fear was the utmost need and not the casual chit chat in the middle of a war zone. He's not being a very good hunter right now, and these group isn't being the most ideal one out there when you have to either listen to where the geeks would be, hear the children cry, or the women muffled words in panic.

"It's was the wrong damn call!" I've finally had it when I pointed a hand towards Daryl, another one when I turned my heel towards the two men, and hastily pulled the redneck on the rear with pursed lips, with each moment passing dangerously for us, and for me. I have promised to stray away from my ways, from how dangerously I looked or moved. But they are testing me to my limits.

And I might just forget about my promise if they keep on pissing me off like this.

"Where are we gonna go?" Carol asked amidst the whole noise we're making like we're voluntarily asking to be the bait in this walker fest.

"She's right. We can't be here, this close to the city after dark." Each minute passing were dozens of hail mary's coming out of my mouth as I watched the whole graveyard and silently wishing only a couple would hear and smell our delicious human scent. Each moment passing of Rick's indecision were dangerously taking too long, that not even a couple of suggestion had made him walk away from the doors we won't be able to open with bare hands.

"Rick." I pressed on and before I know it, someone took the initiative to run, leaving with someone's decision to abandon the place and return to the cars. I looked back and forth towards our crowd, and Rick who had seemed like he's been glued on the pavement.

"Nah, this isn't how I'm gunna die." Daryl muttered beside me and I turned surprisingly, half expecting he'll storm off like he wasn't frantic minutes ago. I opened my mouth to finally fix this before we all die and became dinner for hungry geeks when Rick spoke,

"The camera! It moved." Everyone halted into their tracks and it did the trick in silencing everyone else.

"You imagined it." Dale dismissed him as everyone else frantically looked for leadership among anyone in the group, looking for something more logical than staying in an open arena full of hungry wolves. By this time, my military skills had gone full par and it's either break down the unbreakable walls in front of me, making more noise than we can afford, or run and take cover someplace else to take it on in the morning. None of which I'm going to give up since everyone else now is clinging to hope.

Hope that I never believed in at first, but willing to bet even my most priceless possession into. "Rick, we can just take cover for the night and-and--"

"Lil bit." Daryl called beside me but I only shoved him away and turned to Rick's hopeful face.

"--and we can try again in the morning!" I pulled Rick to face me in the middle of his hysteria but he slammed on the door in mere desperation, talking to a camera that he said moved, but there's no use. Whether or not there are people inside, the night is too risky to make a move, and every geek in every corner would most likely swarm the whole place before we know it. "Rick, please!" It was hopeless and when I turned, Daryl had gripped me on my forearm, with eyes begging me to move to the direction of the cars.

Nothing in my dictionary told me to give up but--that's the thing about false hopes. It pushes you to believe in something until you figure out it's all gonna fall and stray away like a load of bull. "Rick--" Before I could even take a step away from hearing Rick's desperation, a blinding light flashes towards us--and all false hopes withering away began to find its way back up...


	10. Nothing Left

_Weeks before the apocalypse._

"So, Georgia, huh?" I nod, finally giving in to Fred's constant teasing when he found out I was going to have to move to Georgia for another mission and had to miss out the "fun" part him and the others are going to have in Chicago. "I mean, most folks there are into your types. Ramona type." He said as if it was a fact, and a thing. "Dead silent, reserved, and most definitely annoyingly hard-headed who happens to hate everyone." I rolled my eyes. "'cept me and the boys, of course." I stood up and shook my head, not allowing him to finish his words as I continue to get ready for packing towards another country, with another set of assholes on my kill list.

It's actually not that bad to be alone. But yet again, it was different when you're with people who understood you. Literally. My glares, hand signals whenever I'm too lazy to speak, and the way they could hear over my almost stealth walk. "You gotta miss me, Mona. I mean, you'll be so far away. I'm gonna have to send you a letter and it'll be a pain in the ass." Fred kept nagging on as he comfortably lay on my bunk bed with hands propped at his head and feet crossed with his shoes on. In a normal day, I could easily threaten him with a gun but today? I guess I could make an exception.

Fred wasn't overly annoying as he is being right now. He usually kept close to me and the other boys, throw inappropriate jokes in such an untimely manner and made sure he offended at least one of his friends as a sign of love for them. Today? He hasn't moved an inch since he entered my bunk, and continued to be so annoying I might just threaten him with a pistol yet again. "Hey." He called as I was making sure I got all the things I have even though they were barely even clothes and mostly firearms. "I'm serious." I frowned and finally looked, seeing him already sitting at the edge of the bed with a bothersome look on his face. Never have I seen him this serious before and he still jokes in our most dangerous missions. "You gotta be careful, Mona. You'll be alone."

I finally sighed and nodded sincerely.

"You don't have to take the mission. They can do it. You can come with us to Chicago." The way he's genuinely concerned about me annoyed me for the fact that no one has ever done that before except him and the boys, but also touched a twinge in my chest. "I could get Lopez to accept the mission instead-"

I shook my head one time with the familiar look on my face-- determination. I never turned my back in an offered mission, and would never do it now no matter how tempting his offer was.

The change in his emotion struck through but yet again, he covered it almost believably with his normal self. One where he hid everything in a smile no one knew about. _Except me, of course._

"I'll be back, Fred." I was tough. I never back down in a fight no matter how bloody it gets. I never cared about anything else in the world other than having the satisfaction of being able to take the life out of an asshole's eyes, but then, I'm not so tough either.

Not so tough to admit that somehow, in the middle of the desert in our twenty-third mission, I happen to like some idiot who almost shot his own foot because of his genuine fear for rats. "I'll see you again, Ramona." He says as soon as we went out of the bunk and handed me my duffel bag.

"I'll see you in 8 months, Freddy." I walk backward after saluting and he shook his head with a smug grin on his face I never wanted to see while leaving.

"Make damn sure."

_Present._

I never believed in hope, nor ever believed in luck in my whole life. Everything is a calculated risk, one where I have to successfully pull the trigger at the right time and confirm that every skills and success, I brought upon my own self. But seeing the shutters automatically pry itself open with a blinding light pouring out of the very same entrance I never thought would? A part of me started to believe in everything. Call it miracles, faith, or whatever load of bull people used to believe in.

It is what it is.

Salvation.

A calloused hand pulling my arm awoken me from my daze and I found myself being pulled hastily by a red neck with a look on his face that says he'll bolt my ass up if I don't move an inch at my position. I hastily nodded and heard commands from someone saying--"Daryl, Mona, cover the back!" I nod even though no one could see and found ourselves making our way inside, warily taking a step back and looking at every possible corner for more threats. I found out soon enough when the apocalypse happened that geeks aren't the only ones we have to be cautious of.

Daryl and I tried to close the main doors open and looked around for the people that let us in when a gun cocking pulled me out of scouting and instantly took the safety off of my G36.

A lone man in t-shirt standing a few feet away from us with a shot gun in hand. "Anybody infected?" He shouted which echoed the whole place and instantly, it's easy to detect that this main facility is empty but could be full of threats. It doesn't take a genius to know that this main facility is empty, and that I could only hope the people left inside here aren't enemies.

"One of our group was. He didn't make it." My mind circles back to Jim's face right by the tree as he clings onto his dear life but I try to pry it away from my mind. I focused on the main mission and find paradise for the people I care for--by paradise meant a shelter that not one walker could easily pass through. It ain't easy losing people one by one, and I wouldn't be able to take it if I lose every last one of them in one go.

"Why are you here? What do you want?" The man asked, his shotgun still pointed towards us as if several armed people didn't bother him to the slightest. He was alone, and we were one to many to take him down.

"A chance." Rick replied courteously, the desperation of finding hope in this godforsaken place is laced around his voice. I, for one, still couldn't believe that we're inside a possible sanctuary and that was all because of Rick and his undying kick of saving each and every one in this group.

"That's asking an awful lot these days." I never thought that asking for shelter would cost so much after the apocalypse. It was harder than trying to buy a multimillion dollar home at Soho. Like existing in this damnation isn't expensive enough.

Rick sighed, "I know."

"You all submit to a blood test. That's the price of admission." He says after a long thought in which Rick replied eagerly.

"We can do that."

He made his way towards us, pointing to the doors and says, "You got stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes, it stays closed." Daryl, Rick, Shane, and T automatically followed the command like second nature while the rest of us waited inside the compound to stand-by for the guys to bring the stuffs in. I was supposed to go with them but one look from the redneck halted me from my steps and before I could appeal my disagreement, he ran towards the rest of them leaving me behind stumping my foot on the ground like a kid forbidden to go to the playground.

It didn't take them a while before they all come back, clean without specks of blood and bite around them as I inspect through. I watch as the shutters we almost forcefully open began closing in on us. A redneck grunting behind me made me look, and there he stood carrying my bag with a smug little smirk on his lip which I badly wanted to erase off of his face. I quickly grabbed my bag away from him and turned, following the others towards an elevator. My hands still hovered to my G36, ready as I'll ever be if this was an elaborate scam to mug us.

"Rick Grimes." He says with hands hovering into the air but the doctor only looked at it as if he merely didn't trust that we don't have the disease—as if he could get infected just by touching us.

"Dr. Edwin Jenner." He turned to scan his ID and just then, metal doors slid open behind him, revealing a massive elevator in which we all still have to cramped through just so we could get in all at once. Instead of going up, the elevator took us down towards heaven knows where, where it was also getting slightly colder by the minute. I wasn't afraid of tiny spaces but that doesn't mean I'm comfortable being around so many people in my personal space. _It’s kind of an underlying issue._

I concentrated in trying to think about other things instead of getting pissed off, but it didn't last long when Daryl broke the deafening silence. "Doctors always go around packin' heat like that?"

"There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself." He answered, looking back at all of us. It took me just now to realize how exhausted he looked. It's as if something in his manner--the way he stood, take caution, and look at us brought forth a theory that our lot is the first he had ever let in this place. I know a lot of people based on intuition and I'm certainly not wrong with this one. "But you look harmless enough." His eyes darted towards Carl which caused me to take hold of Knifey from the sides if he meant so much as to pick one of his hair. "Except you. I'll have to keep an eye on you." Carl began to grin as if his body wasn't glued to his Mom anymore minutes ago with tears flowing endlessly out of his eyes. I began to put Knifey back on the sheaths, and for now, be cautious.

The elevator doors yanked open as we descent farther down the halls of the place. Showing another hallway with plenty of dark and empty rooms right next to each other. It’s as if CDC had gone down earlier than the military, the place looked very deserted at most.

We reached an empty dark room at the end of the hall as the doctor spoke, “Vi, bring up the lights in the big room.” It lit up another… empty room all the while the machines hummed in the background. “Welcome to zone 5.”

“Where is everybody? The other doctors? The staff?” Rick asked.

“I’m all that’s left. I’m sorry.” I’ve always loved being right but tonight? It is an exception. In this damn apocalypse, it’s a fucking curse to be right all the time.


	11. Knickers

One of my most recent discoveries in the apocalypse is—that drunk Daryl is weird. Utterly and downright weird.

I was sitting behind the counter just where Glenn is at while they had their share of wine, my feet over by the edge beside him while casually tuning into the conversation and then muting it out of my head all at the same time. I've mastered the art of white noise and was able to successfully do it—not until a hand laid out beside me and found that it's—in fact—a very _red_ redneck. Mouthful. "Drink, lil bit." It wasn't even a question, it sounded more like a demand, but I went and grabbed the wine glass out of his hands and sees him go back right after he did—that. Like he isn't the Daryl Dixon we're used to seeing, as if he didn't scowled at me for speaking hours ago.

I realized upon holding the wine glass that it's a mistake accepting it because I wasn't a heavy drinker, to be honest. It requires sobriety to be able to pass the sniper test. Besides, I didn't think I could get drunk, not with all the medicines I've been taking. It's counter-acting each other resulting in possible paranoia that could totally mess up my body, and I needed to be sane now more than ever.

"Well, just stick to soda pop there, bud." I heard right after letting myself listen to the conversation again.

"Not you, Glenn! Keep drinking, little man! I want to see how red your face can get." Daryl became so talkative like hell I wonder what's going on in his very—very drunk mind.

"So when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc? All the... the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, - where are they?" My ears peaked as soon as I hear Shane's voice, asking a question I didn't have to bet he doesn't wanna know. There are things in the world that doesn't deserve an answer. It's like how everybody says it, ignorance is bliss. You better live through the lies you believe yourself than to accept the cold hard truth that's gonna slap you right in the face.

"We're celebrating, Shane. Don't need to do this now." I took a sip from the wine, thinking why I never had such stomach for alcohol when all I ever wanted now is to mute this shit out. Proven impossible by the questions my ears couldn't help but tune into.

"Whoa, wait a second. This is why we're here, right? This was your move... Supposed to find all the answers. Instead we..." He chuckled, "We found him. Found one man. Why?"

Everybody wanted an answer and it's to obvious when they all looked at the poor guy who looked as though he didn't need to be reminded of the fate he has. As everyone does. "Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. Went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted." The glass almost slipped my hands.

"Every last one?" _Every last one._

"Seen any man in uniform here?" The doctor sighed, "Many couldn't face walking out the door. They... opted out. There was a rash of suicides. That was a bad time." And it was my cue to leave without letting anybody else notice.

It never was a mystery to many. How when the first week of the epidemic spread, that the government wasn't ready for this shit and decided they'd make the military as expendables if they needed to protect a person who doesn't even give a shit about maintaning order. It was the number one rule of service, put your life on the line of fire and do everything you can to protect your people. But that was proven wrong when one by one, the groups disappeared and turned into brainless assholes that eats human flesh.

I got sent to Georgia weeks before it happened. I had to be in the state to get intel from one of our recent mission and eliminate the target in the most quiet way possible. No expeditions, no crowd, and no authorities. It's me and the wicked bitch head on. But it never went that way when I found him amidst the heat of Atlanta with white eyes, mouth gurgling with blood while he feast on his bodyguard. It was a bizarre event I tried to push at the back of my mind and soon, realized, it's the shit that's bound to happen a week later.

I... never had the chance to get back to my boys in Chicago on our next agenda. My mind wondered if the epidemic never reached the place but knew it was a futile attempt of coping up to the bitter truth that they're dead. Most likely, probably, definitely. Like I said, we were expendables. The only reason I survived was because I thought I'd always choose myself over the others.

I guess the military instilled bullshit in my brain to have perceptors of caring for your own team. The one you have now.

The one I couldn't bare to lose for the fear of losing grasp of... everything.

"Y'alright?" My head turned back and saw the tomato red redneck leaning on the wall with his arms cross by his chest while looking at me sit at a dark hallway. I would've asked how he found me but it's the hunter skills still kicking about even if he's—drunk? Do hicks get drunk? "Doctor says we got hot water. Can you believe that shit?" He's very friendly and I might just make him remember this if it wasn't for the fact that he'll probably bolt my ass. "Now yur not talkin'?"

“Daryl, you are a very complicated man." I stood up, brushing my palms on my dirty jeans and walk past the hick who only huffed.

"Oh, yu would know." My brow raised, seeing the redneck smirked at me. "Get yur knickers off about an' follow me. Ain't nothin good comes with moping around shit like that." He confused me so much. Not only with the accent, not only with the words I couldn't translate in english, but how he comes off as an asshole—but caring. A caring asshole who thinks about himself but never shows he cares about others too. I certainly don't know much about fragile men's masculinity being but I guess it was just how they were built. I'm not one to judge on that. I have issues.

"I'm not moping." I try to save face and saw him spare me a glance—one that looked as if he didn't believe me.

"Tha's why when you heard the military an' shit you just went 'bout? Did you actually think I was tha' thick?"

"Oh, ten inch steel pipe thick." He stopped to his tracks when I muttered an insult and turned to face me. I don't even know how one could turn cheerfully drunk to I'm-gonna-punch-your-face-right-now woeful scowl. "It's a joke." I'm not scared of anything, that's a fact. But Daryl scowling at me like this brought forth a theory that I shouldn't be pissing off the hick too much—much more now that he's actually drunk.

Daryl looked away, his feet staggering away from me but he went back instantly with one raised brow, drawing near me closer and closer until it's only a finger length before our nose touch. It was against my personal space and I am internally screaming right now, like right at this second out of my ass screaming like a bitch. "If you wanna mope the fuck around, fine by me, lil bit. I ain't gon' be waiting for yur fuckin ass if it's up to me. But—"

"What, Dixon?" I challenged, drawing a few more near I could smell his alcohol breath mixed with both the stench of earth and sweat into one.

The apocalypse is desensitizing, another fact.

"This brady fuckin' bunch needed you. And if I have to drag yur ass with a stick and a rope, I will. Don't try me." Daryl managed to back me up as soon as he looked down on me, glaring a few more seconds before he went on his way inside the room at the far back, leaving me so fucking dumbfounded in the hallway I had to look back to check what just happened.

Did that just happened?


	12. Flames

" _Ramona! Thank fuck I got to you! Are you okay?"_

_"Fucks sake, Mona. I need to hear your voice if you're okay. Just... just right now."_

_"I'm—I'm okay, Fred. How are you and the boys? "_

_"Mona—I know everything is going into shit and I don't know what's happening right now but we're--"_

_"Fred! Hey!_

_“I know this isn’t the time—”_

_"Fred..."_

I jolted awake and it took me a minute to fully gather all my thoughts before lashing out like a wild animal. I had to remind myself that I'm alive, that I'm somewhere safe, and that—that...

Do you know that feeling? The way how the big percentage of your life came by a blur and nothing ever really matters anymore? How it always ends up the same and you know you're gonna grow old and become a forgotten memory? It's crushing. You may never know now but you will, when you realized there's no other hope for you.

When I realized I had nothing in life to do other than... be designed to kill. It's numbing, desensitizing at most. It's something that allows you to go by in a blink, something that closes your heart and your mind.

It was that for me—for so fucking long I forgot how other things felt. It's been that long you actually forgot how to be human at all.

But all of that changed when I was tasked to join a squadron. It was the new military code because people kept losing each other they had to make two into a six people. Just so they could lessen the casualties. It wasn't okay for me for a while—personal space and all. I never bothered with them, never really saw the point of getting to know people just so they could die right before your eyes. Even if I do started to care, I wouldn't even know what to say or where to begin.

Enter the idiot who's scared of rats and gags when he sees blood—considering his point of occupation. He's... annoying. They all are. They're the people you'll actually be so annoyed to hear from 24/7, you'll be annoyed to join with because of their conversation (which by the way is far too graphic for me to reiterate), and I am not forgetting about the stupid things they do when they're bored.

One day, the idiots decided they'd had enough with me not communicating and formed what they call, "Fuckton Words Championship". It's basically trying to talk to me using random words as many as they can 'til one of them gets me to laugh, talk or even smile. Well, it kind of went beyond actually talking to their sleep to finally, finally getting me to crack up a smile when some idiot almost shot his own foot.

Didn't actually know it's gonna be the start of being human again. That idiot.

But then, the world decided it's fuck time to fuck with the people. Call it karma, the end, or the coming.

I was so far away. So... fucking far away with my boys the only ever time I talk to them was when over the phone coverage being shit, a call arrived from them with the exact same words that kept recurring in my dreams all while I huddled in a tree with a long range sniper.

It was... fucking bad.

"You okay? I take it you drank so much last night?" A playful quipped came in front of me and sees Rick standing over while yawning. I looked at him, shrugged, and went back to where I am. Sitting at the floor of my room, closing the door behind me because I couldn't make it out there without actually feeling my nerves get into me. It's like a crazy impulse. Feel as though I wanted to lash out for losing them, for—for trying to be so poetic and staying true to my words. It's dumb, but it happened.

Some people may think ruthless people doesn't feel a thing. They're wrong. It makes you feel everything all at once until the sensory that's supposed to keep you at bay shuts down and all hell breaks lose.

"Come out when you're ready." I hear him say next, nodding instead and letting time pass through while I breathe in and out. Opening my eyes and seeing myself clean for starters, almost forgetting about that warm shower I intend to have again when voices from somewhere in this shithole became progressively louder, at least for me. It's an unusual kind of loud that I had it in me to check what's going on.

I stood up to my feet, putting on my dirty jeans that reek of mud and irony smell, not bothering to get my jacket after putting my shoes and tucking my tank, opening the door only for the lights to come out the same time I noticed the place became progressively warmer. I got out, seeing the doctor walk past Daryl, snatching the bottle on his hands and saying, "Energy use is being prioritized." That does not sound good.

"Air isn't a priority? And lights?" Dale asked while all them followed right after him, the redneck sparing me a meaningful glance I nodded with.

"It's not up to me. Zone 5 is shutting itself down." I ran back to my room to get all my essentials because I could thoroughly smell the trouble from the surface. I hated being right all the time and my assumptions about him didn’t help one bit.

"Hey! Hey, what the hell does that mean? Hey man, I'm talking to you." I followed the redneck towards his woes and saw everything dim and in panic, it's almost too thick in the air I had to be briefed on what just occurred minutes of me being gone with the group. "What do ya mean it's shutting itself down? How can a building do anythin’?"

"You'd be surprised." I am definitely not liking his tone but I had to chill and asses everything, feeling hands beside me and seeing so that it's the hick drawing my attention. 

"This fuckin' idiot said somethin' bout decontamination. Ya know anythin' about it? You gotta. It's on your radar shit." I frowned, stopping on my tracks within the foot of the stairs and seeing Rick confront the man while I try gathering my thoughts. It isn’t in the best condition right about now and it would suck ass if I have to face something head on without a level head.

"Jenner, what's happening?" I could overhear Rick asking, taking my time on the stais while I gather everything I needed. I couldn’t face a war without an empty mind, it was not right even though my first initial mission is to protect my group.

"The system is dropping all the nonessential uses of power. It's designed to keep the computers running to the last possible second.” I could hear footsteps beside me and sees that it’s T-Dog, giving me a meaningful I wasn’t able to get while I massage my head and stare straight at my foot.

It was a bad habit. My head tuning out when everything else is noise. Too much noise. It was getting the heck out of me that I had to mute it out—only for it to come back as soon as I hear shutters closing in. Everything else seemed to go by a blur, in slow motion, in all silence. The way Shane carried a mullet to the doctor, the way the redneck goes up and about with a sharp look and a mouth that never closed, and—and Carl who’s too close to his mother all the while crying.

“The fuck you doin’ lounging ‘round here?! We’re going to fuckin die!” The drawl was too familiar to mistake it for someone else as he stood over me, the same mullet in his hands while heaving. “Are you okay?! I said we’re gon’ die here! Are you fucking deaf now?!”

I brushed my hair away, standing up to level with the angry hick and with all my might, told him to fuck off. “I could hear the fuck outta you.”

He huffed, “Now’s as good a time as any to be a fucking firecracker.” He moved backwards, running towards the military grade shears only for him to stupidly hit it with a mullet as if it would make the slightest dent.

I walk, hearing the AI speak about a bomb that would wipe the CDC on the face of earth, seeing Rick hold me down but I was contempt, and everyone knew better than to back off. “Mona, please. We don’t have to hurt him.” I hear him plead but I wasn’t going to do what they’re thinking. “No pain. An end to sorrow, grief, regret.” Jenner looks straight at me, imposing how his mind views all that’s happening around us. “Everything.”

“You think that?” I ask, walking left to right, back and forth while I register in my damn head what he was bitching about.

“It would've been so much easier.” He reckoned, “You know what's out there A short, brutal life and an agonizing death. Your your sister what was her name?” I clenched my jaw as soon as he pertained to... “Amy.”

“Amy.” The name hit a pang on my chest it took me so much strength not to kick him off of his swivel chair and end him on my terms. “You know what this does. You've seen it. Is that really what you want for your wife and son?” Carl and Sophia is a very different story.

“I’m military, doctor.” I started off, “Do you know how many people I’ve killed in one lifetime?” He looked at me, his adam’s apple moving slowly that only indicated he didn’t like the area of killing. “More than the fucking people this company once had.” I bit the end of my tongue, as if all the eyes of those who’ve I managed to kill head on was flashing through. “And do you fucking know what it is to kill? It’s a human being, doctor. It’s alive. It has a mind of its own, a family waiting at home, and a fucking gun at hand.”

“What are you on into?” The doctor retorted.

“You don’t get to choose the way we die just because you’re a fucking coward. I kill the living and that didn’t stop me from being alive because it’s my job to protect the people—the fucking country. Geeks are fucking child play. So—open the fucking door now,” I smiled, the wicked ones that bothers everyone who sees it because it never looked normal to me. They say... it brought out the evil in my eyes. “Or we die here together while I disregard your fucking choice to go in a painless way possible. Choose now.”

After that, I couldn’t hear anything else. It’s as if my brain automatically stopped listening, halting me to the end of the rail where the shears are and leaning on it while I try to steady my breathing. I am not afraid to die. I never was. All the missions I’ve had, all the people that’s blood on my hands, and all the shit that I’ve done to myself. I wasn’t afraid.

But at the back of my head, somewhere along there it knows it has nothing. Nothing else quite there to go on along this fucking ride. It knows there’s no more than killing geeks, no more than what I used to live for, it’s always coming back to me.

I just—know. “Ramona!” The face. Daryl’s face. In front of me. “Ramona, fuckin’ hell!” I frowned, seeing the agitated face of his before miles of information rained down on me and the sound going throigh it altogether. “Let’s go!” The shears were wide open and as I look back, I see Jacqui together with the doctor, looking at us as if they’re contempt. And I wasn’t about to take that choice from them, not from Jacqui. The only thing I’ve managed to do is to raise my hand and let myself be pulled by the familiar calloused hands.

Daryl’s hands. “What the hell is wrong with yu?” I hear him bellowing while we run on the hallway.

I actually had no idea why this was happening to me. Maybe it’s epiphany, it’s realizing what I had and what I lose, what I could do or not do. It’s taking over my head and I never felt like this before. I used to be so sure, I used to know what I want and what I don’t, but right now? I have no idea what to do.   


I’m lost.

“Mona! Check that way with Daryl. It might budge! Come on!” I hear Rick giving orders that I automatically almost followed if not for realizing that our futile mullets and guns wouldn’t do the trick. I stood there, fumbling my hands around my pocket and sheaths and not seeing a damn thing useful to do with, when a hand reaches in mine and sees it was Carol.

“I might have something to help.” I hear her almost yell and soon Shane’s insult followed but I brush it off and lo and behold, a grenade in my hand.

“Go away!” I shouted, running my hands on the pin and setting it down to the windows, realizing I had a second to run before it explode and took my flying from the mere force of it. It hurted my stomach real bad before I feel another set of hands helping me, almost dragging me out and realizing only that when Daryl set me on the passenger seat as if it was such a normal occurence for him to do so.

“Yur hurt,” I hear him say and would’ve muttered stupidity if not for the slight tinge of pain on my stomach and seeing so that a couple of glass decided to chunk me on it.

“We have to go now. What are we waiting for?” I asked, seeing him set himself on the driver’s seat and looking beyond, only realizing who it was when Dale and Andrea came out of the building. They ran, another set of hands pulling me down only for the impact of the bomb to force the whole place into oblivion.

It took minutes—the memories of bombs and grenades launching over me coming back and opening my eyes to see Daryl’s blue ones, still while holding me down and staring at me that way—that close. “Yu okay?” He asked and I nod, seemingly so that I hadn’t really notice bits about what he looked like on the surface. Like... like this.

“Always am, asshole.” He grinned, pulling back to where he slouched and seeing the cars pull away one by one.

The smokes of the once safe haven in flames and the possibility of a home coming by in a blur.


	13. Yeah

> I am at a lost.

It's a bit of an understatement, not when my mind decided to block out while on my mission to protect the group, and it didn't sit well enough with me. Not when we were on the road to a place god knows where and while chunks of glass stuck out of my stomach, not damaging anything else to my relief. But—but it still feels so much like I failed myself, I failed them. I couldn't do anything while my head went to space.

The long ride was silent at best, Daryl was never one to speak aside from grunts to ask if I was still breathing and I couldn't even speak if I wanted to. I ran out of words to say from embarrassment and I didn't know how to save my face amidst all that happened. I used to have my head on the game amidst under pressure—but that moment? Everything went blur.

"Daryl." I called out with a hoarse voice, adjusting my back on the reclined seat and looking at him. He didn't speak but I knew he'd be listening. "Back there—I... I didn't know what got into me—"

"Nothin' happened back there, lil bit." I frowned, Daryl glancing at me with a straight face and shrugging his shoulders like it's nothing. It confused me for a little bit but decided not to fight against it. I'm glad he somehow understood what kind of hell went into my brain to function so unnaturally. It's as if I wasn't doing this my whole life.

But maybe that's just what happens when you've been place in somewhere you haven't before. Think about what lies ahead even if you knew there's... nothing.

The truck stopped somewhere along a small town where there's a house nearby, I was guessing we needed to siphon some gas so I went ahead, finding a perfect timing to hoist myself up—but only stopping when a hand pulled me down without a second spared. "Where'd ya think yur goin'?" Daryl spoke, another set of scowl lacing his face while looking at me as if I stole his favorite teddy bear.

"We needed to get some things—" He huffs with disbelief written across his face. I don't have a clue what he actually meant for stopping me when he deliberately poked my stomach with his finger that caused everything to hurt like a bitch. " _Fuck_ off, Dixon." I say, pulling his hands away from me and hissing through that bitch of a pain. It was nothing to say the least but there's definitely some pieces stuck there the blood on my tank had already spread wide. And he literally made a point.

"That's what I thought." He spared me one glance before going out, leaving me alone while I pull my tank up and found the small chunks of glass glistening through it. The pain being considerably annoying every minute it took for me to pick it up one by one.

"Hey." I hear a murmur beside me and found Glenn outside. I opened the door for him that caused him to back off for a bit, staying that way until I noticed he only stayed that far because my tank was lifted too high than I intend to.

"Surely it isn't your first time to see a woman's bra? It's all over the mall, right?" I quipped, earning an eye roll from the boy and laughing—all while the annoying pain comes back as I did.

"I still can't get over hearing your voice, Mona." I shrugged, on my mission to pull the sons of bitches when he spoke again, "Daryl said you needed some help with—that. That must've hurt like _shit_."

"You said it." Glenn did help me pull what's left of the chunks in my stomach, he was very good at it, too. I wonder how this boy's hand felt as though it didn't even lift a thing when in all reality, he pulled out most of the tiny pieces left without his finger lasting a second longer on my stomach. He did it very meticulously if I may say so myself.

"Most of it's out, we couldn't rely on the naked eye to get the others so I brought a kit. We could clean it and bandage it over to avoid getting infected." I nod, letting the boy do the work since I noticed how my back hurt from the chair and from flattening my back too much along the ride. I only found him finishing when he bandaged up the last left side and sighing right after.

"Hey, Mona?" Glenn and I looked to where the voice came from and found Lori walking towards us. "Daryl said you might need some new clothes, I brought some for you. Hope it fits." She shrugged while I thank her after, wonder boy and I sharing a look about what just occurred at this second. I hadn't spoken a word to anyone except Daryl of the damage I got out there and yet, here it was. Daryl, doing the honors of telling them what I need when it wasn't in my very intention to do so.

Glenn looked at me playfully which earned him a very deep scowl. "Shut it, _spiderman_." I pulled down his hat, leaving the truck carefully and looking around to find that they're gathering resources. I still have to siphon anything for Daryl's truck as a sign of thank you but a minute after stumbling in front of Carol, I hear a motor revving behind me.

It didn't take long for me to realize that when I look behind me, it's Daryl, flexing his new motorbike. One that's so far from the bike he already has—and it truly fits him. If he just paired it with gladiator glasses, a long beard, and his defined scowl, he could pass as a member of the motorbike gang I found once on my mission in Texas. They were very... _Daryl-ish_. "Does that mean I get to ride alone now? Without your grunts around me? Ah. It's a beautiful day." I say, rounding him and seeing his eyes like slits as he stared me down like a child. "What?"

"We need to hold the gas down for as long as we can." Rick suddenly muttered beside me, not noticing he was even there. This man could be me if he wanted do, although I _doubt_ that. "I suggest you ride with Daryl on this one, Ramona." Wait—when did he get a say in things again? And when is it a good idea to be that close to Daryl?

"I could ride with—"

"We ain't takin' you, firecracker." T-Dog muttered from Dale's RV that caused me to flip him off, hearing his laugh echoed it could almost call all the geeks in the earth.

"Daryl doesn't want this too, right?" I turned to Daryl and saw him rolled his eyes, me asking— _what the fuck_ and hearing him grunt right after. Rick only laugh beside me that caused me to breathe in soooo deep, knowing I needed the fresh air the most. "Fine. Whatever." He would have left me with no choice—that and probably desert me in the middle of this shack so I agreed, even if my stomach pains me so and even if my internal mind is screaming for personal space—guess what? I still did. And Daryl made it so hard for my resolve to get in the bike when he offered little of space while his scowl unwavered throughout the whole process. "Can't get a bike that can actually fit two people?" He didn't speak a word, hence, he revved the motorcycle and drove off.

 _Asshole_.

"You gotta suck it up, Mona." Lori's sing song voice never helped when their car passed by, seeing so that I'll be left in this shit hole if I dont, I ran towards Daryl (which was a pain in the arse to my stomach) brooding beside the RV with a deep scowl and placed my hands behind my back to slowly tread the ominous sea of redneck.

He stared at me, waiting for what felt like eons when I realized what he was on about. I pursed my lips—never have I apologize deliberately for something I personally did not want but this was Daryl—and my life on the line. He will leave me behind and I truly believe that. So, I grunt, cleared my throat a hundred times and shut my eyes, "I'm s—" He revved the motorcycle, tipping his head slightly as to urge me to hop on and I am forever grateful he didn't let me push through. I may be lost, my mind beaten into a pulp, and my will breaking to a fault but I choose to have my pride intact, thank you very much.

I placed myself behind Daryl, wary to touch him if ever he changed his mind about riding with me, and held tightly behind me where a small piece of handle could help me sit stably. I was not overreacting when I knew it's a small space—I could almost smell the earthy scent Daryl held; this was not a good idea at all. "Hold on, firecracker." He murmured out as he started to drive and found that it was not balanced enough while I tip my body behind. Curse the motorcycle for the far handle. Curse that police officer for pairing me up with him. Curse the earth for allowing an apocalypse to happen. "For a military, yu suck at balancing!" I could hear him bellow while we rode out at the front of the caravan which made me roll my eyes and went to hell with it.

"Fine." My hands left the sanctuary of the cold metal handle and soon, the redneck stiffened his shoulders when my hands grabbed on to it. He was certainly not expecting it—not when he wore a leather jacket with torn out sleeves that had his upper arms exposed, and not when my hands hovered it for balance. He never spoke, I never said a word. A silent agreement was in accordance to never speak about it. _Ever_.

* * *

_“Humor me this, Mona.” Fred spoke, in his hands he held a cold bottle of beer while all six of them huddled together near the fire. It’s winter—and the worst bitch of it all was to have a mission in the midst of a heavy snowfall all bundled up in cheap parka jackets. They seemed to forget that the military are humans too, and they seemed to have forget a basic human reaction to cold is actually freezing to death with a sprinkle of hypothermia. But no—they had to send us on a cheap house by the dock_ _where it freezes all our assess off with no possible way of lighting up a fire bigger than what we already have in this rundown fireplace. But we make do with what we have. At least for now. “Have you ever fallen in love?” Wait, what?_

“ _My, my, that’s what I’ve been meaning to ask her, too!” Seth added through his chattering teeth. Are they actually expecting me to answer such a ridiculous question?_

“ _Don’t give us the silent treatment, Ramona! We need answers! Stat!” Jeremiah bellowed while he struggle to cover his big frame into the small blanket we each have. I dare not answer while preserving the only warmth I have left within my body—if there ever was one. And besides, the question’s too ludicrous to give an answer to._

“ _Aye, she wouldn’t give us a word again.” Harold chugged the beer while I shrugged. It’s not worth it. Not worth answering at all._

_“Haven’t you, Mona?” My eyes darted to Derrick and he held a gaze I knew so well. Indeed, I shook my head to finally answer and satiate their curiosity about me. They have been going on for a while now—asking me questions as though we play twenty questions, unfortunately for them, the only answer they get are the ones I could shook my head about. One with yes or no as answers._

“ _Love is so fuckin’ frustrating and amazing, Mona. You should try it sometimes.” I rolled my eyes—ridiculous. Love is an illusion. It’s attraction that you think would last a lifetime but no—you’ll find it’s just urges. To feel like someone adores you when the world is closing in on you. When you’re good and satisfied, you’d leave to find another that could fill the void you need. One after the other the hilarity of it all was palpable. “You seem to not believe in its wonders, no?” I shook my head in all honesty._

“ _Love is unexpected, Ramona.” Jeremiah chimed in. “You see, it’ll pull you to the ocean of obliviousness you’d find yourself swimming together with denial. When you found that one—or someone, you won’t know it’ll be him at first. Maybe you’d actually hate him. Maybe he’ll be right up your alley but nevertheless, he’ll hold his ground and you’d fall more.”_

“ _Ya got that right, Miah!” Harold and Jeremiah toasts on the bottles with smug grins on their faces. They found my lack of experience in love amusing, I bet. “He’ll be your opposite—”_

_“Or maybe the same as you are!” I’d take up punching Seth if I didn’t want to preserve heat by staying still._

_“—and you’ll find you wouldn’t want to be three inches away from that person, I tell ya.” They seemed to caught how my eyebrows twitch that Derrick decided he too would have a piece of lecture for me._

“ _You’ll go where he goes.”_

* * *

“Hey, lil bit.” I hastily pull myself back when I hear a voice, finding it to be the hick in front of me while my arms lay at his back for support and found that I may have slept through the day of riding the road. I roam my eyes and saw that the sun is down and we’re in a clearing beside the road, the rest of the caravan already up and about at our chores. I shook off my daze, wondered just how long Daryl decided before he wake me up. It couldn’t be long. He’s not one to have an ounce of patience. “Gotta scout the perimeter.” He says as soon as we got off the bike and I take it upon myself to stretch my back and feel my arse if it’s still there. Who knows, the seat was stiff as a board. “Ya comin’?”

“Yeah.” I answered almost instinctively that stopped me from my tracks while my dream hit me in the face like a ten wheeler truck—oh no, that’s fucking comical.

“‘ey, ya still comin’?”

“ _Yeah_.”


	14. Bad Juju

"Good morning, Mona!" Voices, kids voices that dare bother me in my sleep all while possibly catching the attention of geeks from miles away. Two children stared me down on my makeshift bed by the tree which reeks of nature and leaves and otherworldly things. "Mom says we gotta go." Sophia nodded in response with a big smile on her face. "Says you gotta ride with Daryl and you still can't say no." I grunted, sitting down on my place at the tree while my brows raised. "And also says breakfast is ready!" The two left right then while I try to gather my wits about me. Surely, a short while of sleep could help me regain my strength enough to deal with children today—and a mother who thinks it's befitting to tell her son that some girl refused to ride with hawkeye. Nevertheless, I stood up from the ground and felt my weapons about me while I sauntered near the RV where Carol holds up my breakfast for the day.

Another day, another venison courtesy of the bow and quiver. "You gotta stop beating yourself to a pulp if you wanna keep up to the chores, Mona." Carol spoke while I ate and while she lounges on her recliner seat with a book. I frowned at what she's insinuating. "Lori and I handle rations for food. You haven't been eating." She smiled coyly, "I have eyes, soldier." One thing's for sure, someone's keeping tabs on me and as much as I want to deny it—they could see it in my weight. I haven't been eating much so because I knew about our rations and that they'd had to kill me first before I see Carl and Sophia starve.

Like what she said, I'm a soldier. I've been far more famished for longer months than this apocalypse. I can get by. "Give it to the kids, Carol. I'll be fine." I say, my eyes roaming around to see them scatter about the place, T-Dog and Dale up at the RV while Lori and Rick eat together by their car. The two wicked children running on the small clearing and found Glenn over the RV doing work. Shane and Andrea are beside the RV while guns surround them and I begin to wonder where the redneck was...

"I never asked..." Her voice trailed that I willed my attention to her and hummed, "What kind of military are you?" Her voice was filled with curiosity and I found myself almost bewildered. Ever since I stumbled at their group at the sanctuary of the hills, no one really ever asked me anything much more than my name, what I did before this, and why I was alone. No one pushed me to go into details and I never bothered telling anyone because—none of it seems to matter now that we're stuck here. My consciousness never bothered to make many friends and never exchanged life stories to anyone else I wonder how they've come to trust me. Maybe my skills showed them, but, still...

"Special ops." I murmured, almost as though I couldn't utter more words. I have never, ever since I found myself working for the government, told anyone anything about who I am. I never bothered with neighbors, strangers striking up a conversation, not even my team knew what I was before being the military.

Now, I begin to find questions like that very odd. "I heard about that! Ain't it some secret military thing? Some say you lot are quite dangerous!" I smiled at the way the lonely woman had her eyes twinkle like a child upon hearing it that I didn't know why I bother telling more.

"I do believe we are, but maybe that's just the big guns." I kept my mum after and hear her marvel about the whole idea of military and guys like us. Like she had never conversed that way before her husband died. I figure this was how being a normal human being works. You share things, feelings, long conversations and then that person will hold who you are to their thoughts. It's there. It's never going away.

I don't think I had friends before the military. _I don't think so at all._

I ate faster than I could to help around after Carol's whole litany about how dangerous we are when I found the redneck sauntering with his bolt while holding more—dead squirrels. I squirmed just at the thought of eating more dead animals but it's how we get by. There are worse foods on the earth than this one.

"Found anything in the woods?" As soon as I finished eating and halted the woman who was now bound by her book, I walk near Daryl guttering the animals for food and he stopped, looked at me with a dead stare, followed by a huff while wearing what seemed to be an ugly smirk, and ends it by shaking his head. I frowned, "W—"

"One geek." He answered timidly and I found myself more confused than ever. 

"Alright, what is it now, Dixon?" I swear, something has been up with this man ever since—well, I can't seem to point out when. Maybe at his birth? "What gives?" I slumped my arse on the ground while watching him skin the rabbit and found myself tilting my head to intimidate the man in question. He never liked the way I look when I'm curious—nobody does, so he had to suck it up. I was trying to be friendly because it needs teamwork to be able to ride a one-person motorcycle together _peacefully._

"The hell yur on about?" He spat—or _drawled_ harshly that I don't have it in me to pursue a lost cause and find myself going up and walking away to relieve such stress that I get from one man. He's far more confusing and worse than the whole squadron, I wager on that.

After what felt like a pinch of a good day, we found ourselves on the road once again. We had to keep going to avoid those unrelenting creatures that could hear our engines as we drove and had to find something more, just a place. Just somewhere we could peacefully close our eyes and not get woken up by geeks that intend to have us as meals.

I rode once again with hawkeye and this time, I held onto nothing. I found my balance as soon as my stomach hurts less and knew that I couldn't keep imposing teamwork with this idiot if he didn't want to. A man can stay on an island alone for fuck all. I have been. But my passionate vexation to this man never wavered me from seeing how he glances at me from the side mirror. The third time he did so, I raised a brow and saw his almost non-existent head shake. I remained quiet, not bothering to hold onto anything as I continue and enjoy the comfort of stillness in the whole place. We never passed by cars which were almost too good to be true, one or two geeks along the way that says we're a bit lucky, and the sun had been shining up and high that it's almost foolish and yet hopeful to say that somehow, it seems to be a normal day for all of us.

"Yu talk more now." My ears caught Daryl's words along the revving of the motorcycle that urged me to look at him in confusion. "I ain't repeatin' shit." I huffed.

"So, you look at me funny because I do a natural human function? That's rich." I could hear him scowl if that was even possible but I... laugh. I don't know why I found it really funny but I laugh, and it seemed to have shaken the redneck when he swerved a little. " _My_ , Dixon. You are somethin'." I nonchalantly placed my hands on his shoulders for support when we swerved to a car in the middle of the road, shaking my head about while wondering what his deal was about me speaking. I mean, it was a pretty great deal to me. I chose not to speak for my own reason but to be able to survive with these lot, I figured I needed a voice with it. So far, it wasn't pulling me back to oblivion and had been helping me voice some shit up whenever it gets annoying.

"Was it about the bet?" I hear him grunt, "It is, isn't it?" If he was any kinder, I'd tell him he already won over his brother but that would mean depleting my pride left so I kept my mum and shrugged. "No one can win now." I caught how he subtly rolled his eyes and almost laugh if it hadn't for my eyes passing another car.

And... another one, and ten more... and a whole fucking busy road. Well, there goes our _normal_ day. "RV." Daryl murmured under his breath that I immediately used his shoulders for support as I hoist myself to look from beyond, seeing a wide gap that could get the caravan by. I hollered from behind and using my hands, pointed the way, tapping the redneck and telling him to follow the maze of abandoned cars towards the spaces of cars in between.

Every car we drove by had looked as though they were ransacked, left to filth, and some undisturbed. I did not bother paying heed to the corpse inside as I mutter curses after curses, the maze being narrower as we go by that a loud pop behind us worried me even worse. " _There goes our luck."_ Daryl circled the motorcycle a bit near from the broken down RV, swinging my feet away from the motorcycle to check what it was about.

I never believe in a sense of foreboding—it was horseshit. The military never believed in sentiment, we believe in the truth right before our eyes but stepping down on the rough pavement almost gave me... shudders.

I always believe seeing a bomb in front of me is better than finding a bomb that I'm supposed to diffuse in under thirty seconds, and this felt like the latter. Getting trapped in the middle of the road without good cover and a way out was definitely bad juju. "We shouldn't stay here." I mumbled under my breath that Daryl only heard and quite dumbly did I just realized he was not beside me anymore--and that he was ransacking a car near the RV.

I mimicked the same and stopped at an old Mazda, humming to myself when I found a pack of candies that fell over the foot of a corpse that I made sure never made a move upon poking it with Knifey. "This is a graveyard." My ears peaked at Lori's words and found myself looking as though I've heard one of the most absurd thing in my life. "I don't know how I feel about this." Daryl gave me a look that almost made me laugh if it hadn't for the thick tension that covered the air. Like I always say to myself, I have my morals. Although that did not include hunting for objects that could help us survive within our impending deaths. I'd risk what's left of my morality to look for Knifey's new best friend.

I think I fancy another knife. And there's a whole load of cars that could have that. Fool's hope.

"I'm afraid I can't say no to free snacks." I quipped, turning to Carl and Sophia while I toss the packets of candies that sure brought grin into their faces. I continued searching the other pick up truck while everyone scampered around from Shane's orders. Looking under the mass of old boxes and finding none— _to my luck._

I went with another one, finding T siphon the gas from the car I was looking at and he laughs, "Still can't believe I can hear your voice now." I rolled my eyes with but a small smile on my face as I slid myself inside the car and fumbled around, bits of uneeded and forgotten pictures lay around as though bringing it would make much more sense in the apocalypse. I wonder how their brain works at the midst of panic, how they could grab a piece of image that could burn, could risk getting wet in the rain, or you'll find no place to put other than a fucking knife that's been lounging on the kitchen.

"This place is shit." I murmured under my breath as I went out and tapped T's shoulders, looking at more cars ahead where I could almost see the empty road. I figured we would need to hoist the car in the way through all this crap to get the RV passed through—if it even still works.

I turned, my vision catching a small glint from the ground and saw a shiny coin beside the car. I ducked, picking it up with my hands and wondering how the coin was still shiny as a gem when I see a figure swooping past me, a sound resonating from the car I came from, and... and grunts. Fucking grunts. "Down!" Daryl's hastily shoved me under the very car I was standing on, my forehead banging under the panel of the car before he looked at me apologetically and ran. I seethed, feeling quite nauseous for a moment before the sound of dragging footsteps reached my ears and found that a hoard—one large enough to devour us in one go are coming the way.

This was it. This was the foreboding shit I was talking about. The bad fucking juju.

And now my forehead is bleeding the fuck out.

Horseshit as it was, my hands hovered at Knifey for any clumsy geek that could trip and find me, my eyes looking for a sign of anyone else near my perimeter when footsteps—fast one with blood pouring down on the pavement bumped into the car I was hiding from. I find it befitting to bury my knife on its back when I realized the heaving—and no—geeks don't heave and breathe like this. I peeked and found Daryl, laying down a bloodied T-Dog where he slammed a geek right on top of him like icing on a cupcake, together with him when he found another one beside the car and turned his head, looking at me intently from under the car as footsteps, now definitely from the geeks, passed by us.

It lasted for several minutes, and one more just to be sure, before I rolled away from under it and clutched my forehead. Checking on T-Dog while Daryl helped him up. "Are you fucking bit?" I murmured and he was shivering, but shook his head as an answer. "Well, thank fuck for that." I found a hand grasping my arm and turned to find Daryl, looking at me like _that._ His eyes looking ahead to my injury courtesy of him. "It's just a scratch, Dixon. Go, check on everyone!" I pushed him away from his daze and looked for cloth to bind T-Dog's arms. Covering and stopping the blood from continuously pouring down.

"Didn't know you was a nurse." My eyebrows arched incredulously.

"Do I look like a nurse to you, T?" He laughs, "Yeah, you're hallucinating from loss of blood. I better get you back." I hauled him up as much as I could and knew his entire body would feel like jelly from the shock and loss his arms had been. The small smile I kept from my face for being called a _nurse_ dropped from my face when my attention darted at Carol weeping at the hills where she kept calling for Sophia. I helped T-Dog trudge towards the RV and called for Andrea to help him, my hands finding my gun from the sheaths when Daryl, Glenn, and Shane signaled for me.

What the hell just happened?


	15. Cigarette

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I see u lurking about hehehehe thank u for reading my fanfic. I know it kinda sucks but i’m trying to make it better and trying to update more faster. Issa long series, I’m gonna have to rack my brain for more words in these one. 
> 
> Well, I should leave you to it. Thank you for sticking up to this crap. I luv u, guys. Leave a comment or kudos! I’d appreciate it big time!

I could not, for the _fucking_ life of me, understand how bad juju works. It's supposed to give you one big bad luck and then, that's it! That's supposed to be it—but no, it had to bring upon the fate to an innocent little girl. "You sure this is the spot?" Daryl asked while my eyes looked for mere signs of a disturbance at the ground, slouching down and eyeing everything that seemed to be out of place in the undisturbed forest. My feet never daring to climb down the creek because everything that gets touched by water is a lost cause.

"I left her right here." Rick pointed out, motioning where he has been from the last few minutes of the two of them being gone. My eyes swoop past behind Glenn's feet, guiding him a little out of the way while my eyes did the tracking. Shoe prints, small, and possibly gapping uncalculated steps judging by how they were being chased by two geeks. A lone child in the woods with nothing but a teddy bear on her grasp.

I clicked my fingers that gathered Daryl's attention at the foot of the trail, "Got clear prints right here. She did like you said, headed back to the highway." Sophia is not a heavy child, that's for sure. And light indecisive trail is far worse than tracking an agile deer.

Daryl reached up to me that I pull him up the creek while Shane does the same with Rick. He looked at me, _like that again_ , eyes tracing towards my forehead that I instinctively gritted my teeth from touching the stinging graze. He shook his head about, fumbling at his pocket and dunk a piece of cloth in my hands. He went away after that, leaving me utterly befuddled before I shrugged it off and lightly pressed it to my forehead. Following the trail whilst feeling a tad bit thirsty. It wasn't easy trailing around the forest while the sun shines its arse off. And definitely not a twig of ease when we're looking for a fragile child lost in a big damn woods.

"What'd yu see?" I hummed at Daryl who crouched down and I followed, eyes tracing through the dirt and pursed my lip. "She was doin' fine right 'til here. All she had to do was keep goin'." He was calculated and firm, eyes swift as an eagle while I try my best not to intrude more. I have hunter skills, that I'm sure off. But I do not risk false judgements, I had to be sure. "She veered off that way."

"Why would she do that?"

"She's frightened, she couldn't have gone far by these prints but she could also be confused." I stood up, brushing my palms together and clenching my jaw. "It's the woods, _spiderman_. Everything looks the same in this _fuck_ hole." I ventured away while I mute their voices and followed the least of the trail. More ruffled patterns tracing together before a hand shook me off my daze.

"You okay?" Rick asked, looking at the same graze on my forehead which I thoroughly nodded with. It was just a freaking graze. I don't know why everyone seemed spook about it. I don't even feel it anymore—aside from when they feel the need to point it out. "Let's go." I noticed Shane and Glenn gone that immediately conclude they're back at the road while I venture the woods together with Daryl and Rick. I made sure I step a bit farther away from the initial trace, hoping I don't _fuck_ up any of the light trails left in hopes of finding Sophia I couldn't even bare never seeing again.

"Tracks are gone." Trekking upon it for several minutes had proved just how much her weight had been a factor to what's left of the traces. Slowly, the prints started going away, bit by bit.

"They're faint." Daryl looked to me, "But they ain't gone." He tipped his head for a little bit, as for my understanding and limited sources of redneck-to-english translation, it might've meant something along the lines of _'everything's fine'_. Which I don't doubt at all because like I realized, hope is the only thing left to grasp on when everything seemed to be so blurry.

"How can you two tell? I don't see anything." Rick exasperatedly sighed while I turned and bobbed my head. "Alright, you're military but..." His eyes pointed at Daryl while I could only offer him a shrug.

"Dirt, grass. You want leason in tracking or you want to find that girl and get our ass off the interstate?"

"Easy, cowboy." I muttered, treading down the root of the tree while my eyes both dart at the forest and the trail. We were in the middle of it, there's no doubt anything could devour us if given a chance. We're practically desserts in a platter.

I jumped through the tree line and slid my way down, the trail of scattered leaves from its bunch not away from my sight that I slouched, hands mid way to touch the trail when snarling grunts come from behind me. I immediately heard the rustling of leaves not very far and a view of a nasty geek intending to gnaw my existence away. Soon did I found my footing, circling through the geek and taking his slowness for a chance to grab on its collar, pull it back, and bury Knifey at the back of its head. It dropped to the ground the same time Daryl was up and at it to his bow, and Rick hovering his hands through his knife. "Boys, the trail, please." Daryl looked as though he'll bolt me if it hadn't for the instinct to back off the trail and turn to the nearest hill to get to me.

"How the hell did you do that fast?" I grinned in recognition.

"In and out, officer." I snapped my fingers and he made an _ah_ sound. Maybe he remembered I was trained to be agile and deliberate, and the geeks are really slow if you never let panic take over you. Paranoia makes you slow, it pauses your brain into assessing the situation. I never think that it's going to get me because they never run, they only follow sounds, feeds on fear, and will hunt you down if you let it. It's easy kill once anyone gets used to their movements.

That _—or I'm just a crazy bitch with killer instinct._

"Sophia!" Daryl yelled that echoed the forest while Rick bend down and investigate the poor corpse. He took out his gloves, glancing back at me for a second before holding the hand and turning it around a couple times.

"What’ chu lookin' for?"

"Skin under the fingernails." He undid my knife on its head and handed it to me, letting me wipe it at the geek's clothes before he turned it upfront and saw its face. "It fed recently." He opened its mouth, his fingers diving around that he looked like he was about to pass out or wretch all over the place. "There's flesh caught in its teeth." He raised it high up and I thought I shivered in anger. My hands grasping tightly to my knife my knuckles almost turned white.

"Yeah, what kind of flesh?" He glanced warily at the two of us before pulling out his knife.

"Only one way to know for sure." He ripped the geek's shirt open and stepped back in what seemed to be reluctancy to touch it with the knife when Daryl intervened.

"Here, I'll do it. How many kills yu skin and gut in yur life?" He looked at Rick who uttered not a word and to me, who when I my brow rose had seemed to intimidate him by his reaction. He brushed it away by shaking his head and I turn to step back, away from spurts of blood that could possibly ruin my grubby appearance even more. My blonde hair doesn't even look blonde any more.

Another fact, the apocalypse can give you a variety of brown hair color. Mostly brown, or dirt, or more brown.

The first splurt was wretching, I _fucking_ hated the sound of it. I never liked the sound of slashing knife towards the thick skin of a geek, never much Daryl's grunt as though he was just guttering a wild animal. He stopped for a moment, all of its skin and bones sprawled around the ground and heave a sigh, "Here comes the bad part." He groaned and searched sideways to the black blood and organs, finding a main goal all while looking away which caused me to slightly snigger behind. It was such a task I would be foolish to partake in—good thing I'm steps away then.

Organs splattered among the rest of which he pulled and break, Rick almost at the verge of throwing up while I stood at the side and looked for more trouble. The sound—it was a sound that'll last my ears for a while, no doubt. "Yea, 'e's had a big meal not long ago. I feel it in there."

"Didn't know there'd be commentary in this guttering session." I quipped and within it did I see Daryl, scowling at me all while reaching deep inside the geek's intestine to pull out the guts.

"I got this." Rick sawed it off all while groaning away, holding off what's left of his patience along the smell and texture of its organ. He took out the object it devoured and we found it wasn't a human skin.

_Fucking ace._ "This gross bastard had himself a woodchuck for lunch."

"At least we know." _At least we know._

"That was entertaining." I mumbled that earned a few glares from my companions and a mental note to check if anything's wrong with me that I hadn't even feel the need the vomit the contents out of my system for it was once a human. They gutted what once a human being just to know what it ate for lunch. _Huh_. Terrible happenings can be mostly desensitizing.

Sunset had befallen us when we reached back the highway and see worried faces from the rest of our group. I could not face Carol for the fear that I would not know how to express just how sorry I am for not being able to find Sophia before the sun went down. I couldn't even face anyone and never stayed when Rick and Daryl was asked all sorts of questions I would not know how to answer. I'm not a police officer like Rick, my unchecked capabilities of telling her _calmly_ and _assuringly_ that we would find her would be unbelievable I dare not to try. In Daryl's case, well, no one would mess with him, right? And they knew me to never speak and always blend in the darkness. That's one place to put myself and rid of embarassment that I couldn't find a little girl albeit my reputation and skills.

My feet ventured the cars nearby and found myself laying peacefully at the top of the overturned truck. It fell sideways that allowed me to hop on its railing and place myself above where I could still see the road from here and alert anybody head on if the herd from previously decided to drop by the second time around.

I never really told anybody—not that I'd ever feel the need to, about how when all silence fell, all my ears could hear were the sounds of gunshot. Ringing, grumbling through my ear. Bombs, war cries, and screams. Some would say it hunts them but to me, it calmed me. It's where I knew I belong, where I found myself. In the midst of a terrorist attack dressed in black heavy fabric and armor, a gun heavier than a sack of dirt on my hand while my feet clamored against the pavement silently like a cat. People would find themselves bewildered. A person—no less than a girl, loved the battlefield? A blonde with delicate features, too soft for war they say, had felt it in her heart how much she loved the thrill of it all. I knew that.

_That I am a crazy bitch._

"Dinner." A voice grumbled behind me that when I turn to look, Daryl stood below the truck with a bowl on his hands. I must say, this was surprisingly odd of a sight. Daryl never—bring me, or have I seen him bring anyone dinner, much less have one on his own as well.

"Ah, should I light some candles and we could dine in together like a nice little date night?" I quipped and soon found myself coyly flustered for my insinuation and Daryl, well, pissed off guessing from the mixtures of expression that pass his face. One there would be disgust. I attest to that.

He scowled and turn back, the thought of losing dinner angered my stomach that I jumped from the truck and ran to face him, all riled up. So sensitive, it would seem. "I was kidding, Dixon." I snatched the bowl out of his hands and smiled gratefully for two seconds before going my way to the other car low enough for me to climb without my hands and lounge on while I eat whatever this is in my hands. I found that never asking questions would be befitting when it comes to food.

Next I heard was the sound of munching from beside me, surprisingly odd as shit again, Daryl eating at the ground next to where I'm sitting on a hood. I decided I didn't wanna piss him off so I kept my mum, finished the food with all my might even if it tasted something I couldn't describe and soon, I'm left looking at the skies above without no mere signs of stars. As if... the apocalypse just made everything worse at its grasp. Even the stars. Even something you could look upon and find yourself lost for a very long time.

"How'd yu come by it?" I hear Daryl murmur beside me that I look and raised my brows, "On yur neck." He gestured his fingers to his own neck and right then, I knew what he was talking about.

"If I tell ya I'm gonna have to kill you, Daryl Dixon." He looked at me as though he's about to mutter something back but he shrugged and went back to eating, pretending he never asked me, and pretending the trace of a _cigarette burn_ never exist on my neck.


	16. Past & Present

**\- 𝚏𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 -**

I am _fucked_.

Quite literally if I say so myself.

And a bit of an understatement at the moment.

Everything _fucked_ up. It wasn't supposed to end this way—nothing was supposed to go wrong in my mission because I made sure I had it all covered before going in and calling off the target. It was supposed to be a one-woman job, one that includes a bullet and a target—oh, but **no** , as it turned out, someone already caught my target before I even could set up my _fucking_ arsenal.

One which had a bleeding mouth and shoulders, biting my target right in his face.

It had to be a joke. I had to be hallucinating, or my meds could be _fucking_ me up big time for taking in at all the wrong time, or maybe I'm under delusion for being bat _shit_ crazy—but, all of those were seemingly the truths I wanted to believe instead of my target, waking up from that nasty hollow cheek with nothing but a blank stare—almost as if he was snarling.

Hey, I could have believed he's an actor if not for the fucking fact that his bodyguard shoots him right in the chest and... nothing... _fucking_ happened.

I ran, I ran so fast I forgot about my clothes, my small apartment downtown, the heat of Georgia—and almost blocked out the sound of screaming, and yelling and those—those creatures, attempting to run into me before my hands pulled the trigger of my long-range rifle, and found myself covered in black goo of some sort that compelled me to throw up for a second before looking up and finding a man covered in blood, no signs of anything that shouted bad except for his eyes that stared at my rifle for too long and too hard that when he shook off his daze, the eyes had the deepest desire to steal my _shit_ from me.

"One step and I will not hesitate." I pointed the gun right at him, wiping my mouth behind my other hand while he stood there, looking like a dumbass drooling at my rifle which stood long and fierce compared to the machete in his hands. "Get the _fuck_ away!" And the _son of a bitch_ never listened when he war-cried into slashing me with his machete. "Fine." I did not hesitate for any longer as the more I stand within eyesight, the more will I be devoured by what happened to them, to the people around me.

I heaved and ran as fast as I still could, looking for somewhere where I knew people wouldn't think to be safe. The woods. It was not as good as the _mall_ , in my honest opinion, but seeing so as the people are actually killing inside it would be an ultimate no for me. Whatever this is? I plan to stay alive, _thank you very much._

I found a tall tree to climb my way upon, the rifle being a pain in the ass while it clamored behind my back and the strap almost strangling me halfway the tree—yet thankfully, was able to climb far up high where no one would see me if they wouldn't look up.

I found my phone on my back pocket and instantly dialed a number—well, of course not my division, the target is eliminated and I didn't think I'd still have the need to confirm that one. I dialed the number of one of the people that stuck into my mind as soon as my target came alive after being supposedly dead from the bite on his face, not just a bite though, it was _fucking_ eaten until his bloodied pearly whites came into view.

Not a sight for lunchtime, that is.

It hadn't occurred to me just how much it frightened me when then did I only noticed how my hands were clinging and quivering while holding the phone in my ear, hoping—just _fucking_ hoping I wasn't having a real deep trip.

But the ring halted in my ears and fell to shit, attempting it a few more times before I gave up and slumped my back on the tree, lips quivering even if I try to keep my cool. I'm okay, I'm okay. My _therapist_ said that saying things would help you believe it, so, " _I'm fucking okay!_ " The phone rang in my hand so suddenly I almost fell to the trunk, fumbling my hands around the screen and tapping the green button not more second after I see the name. "Ramona! Thank _fuck_ I got to you! Are you okay? Nobody told me _shit_ about what's happening—oh, for _fuck's_ sake, Ramona! I need to hear your voice if you're okay. Just... just right now." A tear fell into my eye it almost befuddled me. I was... I was scared. "Please, Ramona."

"I-I'm—I'm okay, Fred. How are you and the boys? Are you alright? Be safe, you hear me?!" I heard chuckling at the other line it almost raged me how he found it funny when some part of my heart found it comforting. It was so _fucking_ weird and—and scary. I've faced so much _shit_ in my life this... this isn't one I wanted to be part off!

"Mona—I... I know everything is going into shit and I don't really know what's happening right now but _we're_ —" His voice was starting to cut off, line by line does it croak and broke and my heart couldn't keep itself on its little shell. I was heaving—almost as if clinging onto a small thread. "I know this isn't the time for—oh, god, this is so fucking _ridic_ — I—"

"Fred!"

"— _you_ , Mona. We'll be safe. I promise." Ringing followed in my eyes right after I never knew how long I stayed there, hearing the phone vibrated and died in my ears, all while looking ahead of me. I couldn't almost feel anything—couldn't process a lot of _shit_ right now not even plenty foods could fix that. This... whatever this shit is, I don't _fucking_ want it. But I couldn't move, I couldn't do anything while I heave and catch my breath, my other hands snaking upon my chest as though any moment would it burst.

I... I never felt so frightened and tormented in my life like this.

"Where the _fuck_ are we goin', Merl?" A voice, it blurted right below me that it finally shook me off the trance I was in and clutched on the trunk while I duck my head below.

"Shut yur mouth, Darlina! You'll attract more o' those freaks!" I moved ever so slowly when I saw two figures traipse about in the woods, never noticing me up above on the tree.

But this was, like most of the times, a **dreadful** way of entrance.

My rifle dropped from its place on the trunk, my arse following it so carelessly I seem to forget that the end of the trunk wasn't as thick as where I was sitting, finding it cracking on my weight and soon, did it break on me—and I fucking fell.

Right at the _fucking_ grass.

My eyes started turning black, more and more voices echoing in my ears, and when I opened my eyes, blue eyes stared at me with a smug smirk across his face I wanted to punch away if I hadn't maybe broken a bone—or two—wait, that would most likely be three.

**\- 𝚎𝚗𝚍 -**

"Rise and shine, wallflower! They've been looking for you." My eyes fluttered wide open by T-Dog's gleeful way of waking me up, grinning while clutching on his injured hand that he probably lost a lot of blood to yesterday. I stared at it, bobbing my head to ask how he's doing when he pursed his lip and shrugged. "Don't worry 'bout me, boo! T-Dog's got this." He winked, offering a hand from my place inside a car which once was a homey place for the corpse I found last night. The seats are soft! I will not refuse for such luxury and I will definitely not share with a lifeless piece of bone _. I sleep alone._

"What's going on?" I found the group huddled together at the hood of the car where Rick walks by and called for us. I stayed far back beside Glenn and T-Dog, yawning while on the hunt for good breakfast because staying for watch last night was a pain in the arse when anytime, a herd could come by without anyone noticing. That—and Glenn fell asleep on his turn, too. That left me together all on my own, confined in a space that smelled like a rotten egg and dirt at the same time.

"Rick called for everyone." Glenn muttered, yawning at the same time as I did and when he noticed, he abruptly stopped. "Sorry..." He muttered sheepishly which urged me to bump his shoulders encouragingly. I didn't mind staying up, I couldn't sleep sometimes so that was something I did rather _involuntary_? _Whatever_ , at least I didn't stay up just because I fail sleeping at night where it's kind of, _maybe_ , slightly important in times like these.

"Everybody takes a weapon." Rick rolled a black tool bag on the hood and I found it to be filled with arsenal, one very shiny and whoever found it found a pot of gold right there. Beaming in the sunshine, waiting to be used at the right time. Huh, who knew there'd be gold in these dumps? All I found were lighters, hammers, and soft leather seats. _Ah_ , what I would give to sleep there again.

"These aren't the kind of weapons we need. What about the guns?" My attention fixated to Andrea, speaking like that as though her whole life did she carried a gun on her pocket she couldn't part with—oh, wait, _fuck that's me._

"We've been over that. Daryl, Rick, and I are carrying. We can't have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles." If Shane thinks I already forgot about his small deranged moment at the woods—he's far too wrong. And if Andrea thinks she'll hold a gun? Then she's most absolutely delirious. Man, is everybody here at camp I should watch on? Does everyone had to be _fucking_ mad at the midst of a very perilous time of our lives?

"It's not the trees I'm worried about." Well, let us worry about it then, right? Because maybe then she wouldn't kill us for panicking—most likely me. Who knew what Andrea would do if while sneaking around my feet made but the smallest sound that urged her to point and shoot without a second thought?

"Say somebody fires at the wrong moment, herd happens to be passing by? You see then, it's game over for all of us. So, you need to get over it." Shane is being sassy and I kind of like it if he wasn't a little unhinged most of the times. I shrugged, seeming so that there's no breakfast for me today, and that my actual breakfast would be treading the woods if they ask me to come. My hands made their way to the roll of an arsenal, brushing the handsome metal inside the sheaths when Miss Andrea decided to speak again.

"Why does Ramona gets to have a gun, then?" My ears peaked and when somebody said you shouldn't piss off a person that just woke up, it's actually to be taken seriously. Like really _fucking_ seriously.

"Because Ramona _doesn't_ use a gun when she doesn't need to, because Ramona was _taught_ how to use a gun by the military itself, and because Ramona _fucking_ wants to." I turned away with the new knife on my hands, taking out Knifey from my sheaths and staring at each other after I said what needed to be said. They almost resembled each other, and I'm kind of happy to find a new knife and let Knifey rest for a little while. The little knife deserves that.

"The idea is to take the creek up 'bout 5 miles, turn around, come back the other side." Daryl began explaining the plan to everyone while I rest my back on the truck and almost drool on my new knife. Little things, they are, but little things make people happy even if she's certain to die from starvation in the middle of the apocalypse.

"Stay quiet, stay sharp. Keep space between you but always within sight of each other." Rick instructed that I immediately followed, going back to the car I'm grateful for and hoisting away the pack that I put together last night while on my watch. Closing it as if it was really mine and walking back to the truck where a bunch of water lay forgotten—and an argument ensued.

"Oh, what do you think's gonna happen? I'm gonna stick it in my mouth and pull the trigger the moment you hand it to me?" I never knew this was the time to face issues instead of finding Sophia and bringing everything to rest once it's over? Must she be that thick to not realize just how much time we're wasting lounging around here while—I don't know— a possible herd comes right through us once again?

I tuned out most of her worthless explanation, filling my bottle with loads of water together with drinking right below it, a few waters coming down my throat it felt like I'm showering for the day. I closed it up after looking as though I wretched from the wet trail my brown shirt has and walking towards Daryl who never paid more attention to it the same as I did.

He looked at me, eyes scanning towards my new belt bag I was so brandishing in front of him. "My new bag cost me one thousand _none_. Like it?" He shook his head with an eye roll that had me laughing for a second before I lie down on the ground to my arse and groaned. The argument ensuing for more than two minutes before I groaned much louder this time, causing everyone to look at me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought we're out here _fucking_ blurting _shit_ when there's a little girl out there all alone. We got all the _fucking_ time in the world, can't you notice?" Daryl hastily looked at me—noticing his eyes looked as though when he heard me spoke the first time on the dingy office at the city while looking for his brother. I shrugged it off, maybe it was rude or insensitive of me—but are we really about that when we should be looking for a child? Like, a real child, out in the woods, probably weeping and scared?

Has anyone thought of that? No?

Daryl helped me up when he offered his hands, bobbing his head on the way of the woods while my eyes never failing to notice how Andrea looked as though she wanted to bite me—oh, _bite me_. "Stick behind Shane on this one." He turned to me, eyes in slits while I wonder why he wanted me to do that—and yet remembering that Shane's screws are a little loose and I should probably keep an eye far back.

I nod, letting myself fall behind until I reached Lori and Carl behind together with Shane. He nodded at me, receiving nothing from me as I walk in stealth and full mission. Eyes looking far beyond and ears peaked for any big movements.

It couldn't have been a couple of hours when I felt my legs dreary, one reason for that would be not eating anything when I probably should have. "Shane, look." I hear Carl muttered, I was already a few feet away from behind when I did, finding a disturbed trail of leaves but realizing it to be from a wild animal. But I never went back to the line even if I should—I couldn't bear the sight of Shane far too long without feeling as though I should always point a gun at him even for the slight unrelated clue of madness. He gives off that charm, I must say. "Dad said I could carry it and Mom said as long as I was—"

"Keep it down." I slowly tread behind and found Shane, dismissing the excitement of a child who just lost his friend. My brows furrowed and my anger deepened I could almost hit him using the back of my knife to shook him out of his woes. "We're looking for Sophia. You need to focus on the task." My eyes were filled with rage as I passed by him, raising a brow on my way, and hope he found it full of warning. I will kick his ass if need be.

"Hey, come here. What's that?" Lori looked at me with pursed lips but I only smiled, knowing that the kid deserves more than the piece of crap behind me.

"You speak so much now." _Daryl said that to me, too._ Carl murmured under his breath while looking down all disappointed and I hated it. I'm not good at being a natural human being with feelings that I show to everyone else—never my best suite. But these kids? I couldn't bear seeing them so sad and starving and being closed off like these. I am a kid once; I knew how it felt to be a _fucking_ invisible that I brought it with me growing up.

Daryl doesn't call me _wallflower_ for nothing.

"I kinda like speaking now, to be honest." I quipped and he looked at me, eyes gazing like the morning he and Sophia woke me up all while grinning.

"I like your voice, Mona. You should speak more and more!" He chirped gleefully that I smiled, one that I could say... warmed my heart? Well, that's a new thing. "I have a new knife! Look, it's so sharp and so cool! Mom says I could keep this if I'll be careful with it." Ah, the innocence of a child is refreshing to but a big and terrifying world. They should be kept safe. Away from the troubles of the world. Away from ever growing up and finding that things aren't as good and as magical as they thought it would be.

"The sharp end points the other way, always. No matter what. Alright, bud?" He nods as I tap his head encouragingly and followed through the line, the other side of my consciousness seething in anger to the man behind us.

Minutes after sauntering about on the woods I found a signal from the officer to slouch down that I did, pulling down Carl with me together with Lori who kept him safe in her arms while looking at every side. I crouched low, eyes staying behind me while Shane kept walking right to the front, the _dumbass_ leaving his six o'clock as though he wasn't a police officer to begin with.

The three began leaving while I kept my stance from behind, ears wary from any movement while my hands hovered at my new knife. It was long, of six inches big and could probably slice a bit better if sharpened. I like it. It doesn't smell like iron and among other things.

"Here," Rick called for us staying low from behind and we followed, still looking at the backside for anything while walking backward and reaching the rest of them where Carol started calling for Sophia. "Sweetie, are you in there? Sophia, it's mommy. We're all here, baby. It's mommy." Daryl shook his head and as soon as they opened the tent, Daryl sauntered about and began coughing—actually, all three of them began while searching on the lone and quiet tent.

"Ain't her." I round my hands on Carl's shoulder to encourage him when his face fell once more, tugging him closer to me while his Mom comforted Carol. My disappointment was barreling to the tip until I found myself clenching my jaw. If only I was near them—if only I didn't wander off too far then I could've followed Rick and Sophia out in the woods. I could've guided her out there while Rick gathered the attention of the geeks—I could've been more _fuckin_ useful than be enticed with a _fucking_ shining dime on the ground.

"What's in there?" Andrea asked from behind Carl.

"Some guy. Did what Jenner said. _Opted_ out." Daryl picked up his bow and circled it around his shoulders, "Ain't that what he called it?" I shook my head about and returned the knife on my sheaths, sighing away when my breath got caught halfway from the sound of the bells that echoed through the air.

My feet were on the move soon as it rang the third time, looking back as more as I could spare to Carl behind me while my ears followed the sound of whence it came. "What direction?" They slowed down but I only then noticed just how much my ears were eager to follow the sound. It could be anything—it could be someone, it could be Sophia calling for help. She's a bright one, that kid. And I sure hope that it'll be her. If not, then she could follow the sound and we get to meet her there. It's a hope I'm choosing to believe.

"I think it's that way. I'm pretty sure."

"Forward." I muttered just loudly as I could, my feet in quick strides to the sound until the bell rang louder and louder in my ear towards the tree line where a big clearing welcomed me together with a white establishment—a church, and freaking graves.

"That can't be it, there's no steeple—Rick!" Shane called after Rick but I ran together with him, my feet hot on the grounds while we round up the whole place and found it to be empty—at least it was as far as I could see. The sound could lead off a lot of nasty clowns where we are. I am not risking that again.

I found Glenn beside me when we see red doors right in front of us, what must look like an entrance and unlocked at that. Rick and Daryl climbed the steps up to the very top, looking at each other and at the same time, pushing the red doors open only to come by a view of a large cross in the middle, and three geeks residing in it while... sitting.

They turned and looked, my nerves climbing up on my spine as they sat there, almost as though it had a mind of its own but it really doesn't. I found Carl right behind us and trusted Shane, Daryl and Rick to get a move on with it while I—once again, do my job of looking out at our six o'clock. Can't risk ruining a good shirt over black goo. Not a fashion statement I'd like to behold.

My hopes of finding Sophia to the sound stopped when I hadn't heard it again, my feet tapping hard against the ground while I wait for the sound to ring again so I could run and find it. It couldn't be here—" _Fuck_." I unconsciously muttered an apology and finding yet again for it to be ridiculous, as I was on the footstep of a church—and this establishment and I aren't good fans of each other. I kind of—obviously broke the rules of the good book. " _Fuck_!" My curse got louder as soon as the bell rang once more, following the sound of it only to be led at the right side of the _fucking_ establishment where a speaker rang so loud at us.

Glenn pulled the box on the wall and shut it off and was thankful because my nerves were going haywire by the sound. _I fucking hate this._ "Timer." Daryl panted beside me while holding his machete, his eyes gazing at me for a second before I pulled myself away from the holy place and found to be walking around while practically punching myself right in the face in mere disappointment.

I can't do this.

I walk, back and forth, pacing nonchalantly at the graves in front of me as I could not _fucking_ believe we could lose her. We could lose Sophia in one blink of an eye, and I can't even do shit about it other than to stick together with what's left of them for I couldn't afford losing more. I hated it. I hated how much I'm so _fucking_ deep in this group I don't even know how I'd survive alone without ever thinking what would become of them, where they'd go, who fell away. I couldn't—I couldn't. This was war all over again. This was a _fucking_ mission all over again. You lose people along the way but you never should feel like you can't leave without them. It would cost you and what's left of your group but they never told you how much damaging it is to be back in again—to feel as though you hold something good again—only for it to be back on _fucking_ zero.

"Ramona." My feet stopped and stayed still on the ground, never noticing that everyone else was out of the church and was hanging on the graves at the front while I stayed at the far side of the church where I could be alone. No one would see me like this. No one would see me struggle. It's a weakness. I couldn't let it absorb me. "Ramona, _fuckin_ ' stop."

"I _fuckin_ ' did, right?!" I snapped back and saw Daryl walk towards me, facing me with his deepest scowl but somewhere behind did it changed—altered into something I couldn't even read.

"Stop thinkin'." He pointed at his head the way he drew the words while I roll my eyes and looked the other way.

"How would you know I'm thinking? Almighty gave you powers now?" He looked at me sharply that made me drew my breath out loud in frustration. I almost wanted to pull my hair, I couldn't understand why we can't find a kid even if we spent a day and a half looking! Wasn't that enough? Where could she possibly be right now? At the other side of the damn world?

"You walk back an' forth and then do shit that probably might get yu killed. Like climb a tree and _fuckin_ ' fall, ain't it?" I furrowed my brows even deeper—how could he have known I was daring to climb the tree? "I know what' chu been doin', _wallflower_." He rolled his eyes and turned sideways, "Stop climbing a _fuckin_ ' tree, will ya?" He bobbed his head as to command me but I stomped my feet on the ground and groaned inwardly a few more times before following, finding them hanging around at the grass and Daryl, under the tree while wiping his crossbow once again.

He looked at me, like that, and I snorted, "It's a gash, Dixon. I'm not dying." I muttered exasperatedly, kind of tired seeing them look at my forehead like I have a _dick_ hanging on it.


	17. Gotta Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling generous!!! Two updates in a day! You’re welcome! 
> 
> Kudos / Comments will be appreciated! Lovelots! x

"Ya'll gotta follow the creek bed back. Daryl, you're in charge. Me and Rick are just gonna hang back. Search the area another hour or so, just to be thorough." As soon as I heard the words come out of Shane's mouth did I almost flipped. Not only because it's a bad plan, but because I knew what Shane could do—would do if given a chance to be alone with his best friend. It's as if it's bad juju all over again, bringing upon us this bright sunny day.

"Splittin' us up? You sure?" Daryl muttered that I pretty much wanna ask the same question too.

"Yeah, we'll catch up to you." Shane replied that sent me into a fit.

"I could go?" I could almost feel Daryl's eyes burning at my skull with the way I suggested the fact as though I just genuinely wanna be putting myself in danger. Which I am—for the sake of everyone. "You gotta need a tracker at some point." I purposely enticed them with just so they could see a point of me, going. Rick pursed his lips at that, almost as though he was rejecting the fact the same as Shane who shook his head about with a frown.

"You'll be safe with Daryl. He gotta lead you guys back, can't get one man to do that." He pointed as though Glenn wasn't with us or that Daryl couldn't defend the whole group by himself. I'm at least very glad to point out that Daryl could take a battalion if he wanted to but the man in point grunted beside me.

"I insist." No stopping Ramona at this point forward when I hoist out Knifey's new little best friend up about and step forward to their little group, smiling gleefully at Rick who remained his head shaking and sighing while I refuse to look at Daryl even more— _man_ , his stare could burn up a bald spot in my head if he wishes so.

"Alright, let's head on." Shane bobbed his head away from the group that I immediately followed if not for the hand that grasps on my arms and sharp eyes in slits as if biting and slashing me about every chance he gets.

"Daryl, I'm not going to d—"

"Don't climb a _fuckin_ ' tree." He left me at that almost too incredulously I couldn't believe it. I stood there, a bit puzzled at the moment before he nodded at me and turned his head around, leading our group back at the tree line of the woods. I turned, a laugh escaping my lips as I trailed behind Shane and Carl.

"Got a second?" Rick asked towards us that we nodded, finding him enter the holy place I still refuse to go and entertained myself on the nearby grass. Lifting up my knife and seeing Carl sit in front of me, leaving Shane on the flight of stairs.

"Your knife is so big compared to mine." He quipped, showing his small knife that indeed were three inches sharp.

"When you grow up, I might find you a knife bigger than mine." I grinned and Carl almost jumped if I hadn't calmed him down by pulling him close. "Just don't tell anyone, alright?" He nodded enthusiastically, a couple of minutes later his Dad just got about done, I don't know, praying? Would anyone listen to his woes by this point that the dead are actually walking? It's kind of a bit of a reach, isn't it?

"Get what you need?" Shane muttered while he stood up and round his shotgun atop his shoulders.

"Guess we'll find out."

We followed the other way of the woods and for a while, I took the back nearest Carl while my eyes scanned our way for Sophia's trail. It was nothing for a while, all grass and dirt crumbled together with no signs of any tracks that could possibly tell us where she could've headed—but then, a snap echoed near our path that Rick raises his hands for us to stop. I grabbed onto the knife I held, in stance for wherever that sound came from and followed through when officer pointed north.

Rick looked appalled at first that lead me to look at what he's looking and found it to be a deer. A live one that never noticed our small footsteps against the wood. I never knew why it marveled them so much but upon looking at Carl, he looked—amused. The innocence of a child, seeing a real deer that wasn't gutted by Daryl had been a sight to see that when Shane attempted to shoot it did Rick called for him.

Carl walks slowly to the deer, I didn't even notice how much the sight brought a smile on my face. It was new, refreshing to see the sight before him. I would've taken a picture for it looking so marvelous, and dreamy, and childlike. My heart kept knocking on its walls for having a light moment amidst our dark days.

But I never knew how much a gun shot dreaded my ears when it popped. And I used to think gun shots were the ones that could heal me—save me, bring be back to normalcy. But no— **no** , _"Carl!"_

* * *

I ran, so fast as much as I could that I practically feel the tension in my legs and my heart aching so _fucking_ much it never dawn upon me just how much I'm strained. I looked back, Rick— _and_ — _and_ Carl within his grasp all bloodied and eyes closed. I bit my lip, anger rushing through my veins when I see Shane with a stranger, a man who held a shot gun within his hands I wanted to snatch and lash around. "Ramona! Another mile!" But I ran, withholding the outrage I held while I grew far, far until I could see a house within my sight.

"Ask for Hershel! He will help your boy!" I wanted to turn and help carry Carl but Rick shouted at me to go, to ask for help, to head on while he kept Carl within his grasp. It ache my chest, something heavy poured upon it that I intend to run fast.

Twice as fast, panting, out of breath, and close to passing out. A girl I see within the porch that I started waving around my knife for her to notice, my ears never failing the way she shouted back inside as I reached the front and found them went outside the house looking at me as though I was a geek. "My friend's son is shot by your _fucking_ man! Hershel, who is it?!" Rick reached the porch together with me that they immediately cleared the way and let him in.

The man called Hershel started shouting for orders that fell my ear when Rick laid down Carl on the bed, my brain going to task when I hoisted the pillowcase and folded to cover the shot that I couldn't bear looking at. "Is he alive?" He is. He should be.

"Put pressure on the wound."

"I know! I know!" I look at Carl and I see flickering lights. I hear screams, I see _shit_ I refused to see that made me shut my eyes real tight while the man looked for a heartbeat. I opened my eyes, Carl's cold skin nipping on my fingers that brought back a flicker of pain in my chest, getting it harder and harder to keep in.

"I've got a heartbeat. It's faint." He's fighting. He will be. I promised him to bring back many weapons when he grew up. He has to be alive.

"I got it, step back." A woman pulled me away from Carl that I instinctively took a step away and laid my back against the wall. A blur it must seem to me; I couldn't almost see what's happening in between the dark flashes in my mind. But immediately, I see Rick leaving and followed, my knees giving up halfway to the door that I slipped and held on the staircase for support. I sat there, Shane entering to offer a hand on my shoulders I barely felt, and stayed that way while my mind mute away everything.

I couldn't—I don't... _Oh god._

* * *

_"Ramona, my dear. Please, we have to go. We need to bring you to the hospital."_

_"She's traumatized, ma'am. We can't force her to do anything right now or else she'd cry—she'd scream. She almost bit a nurse."_

_"We can't leave her here!"_

_"Our paramedics will stay as long as they could if ever anyone gets her to move away from where the body was."_   
  


* * *

"Hey?" A woman faced me, breaking me out of the haze while I noticed how I'm still sitting nearby the stairs where I refused to move an inch. I couldn't if I want to. I've strained my legs for far too long to walk several steps away from here. Even then, I couldn't face Carl... _Not_... Not yet. "Is that his name?" I frowned to the woman, brown short hair wearing a pink tank top which smiled at me softly I almost hated it. I didn't wanna see anyone smiling amidst this shit hole but I began to wonder what she meant. Have I been saying Carl's name? _"Rodrick?"_

"N-No." I gulped, once, twice, before turning my head away. "W-Where—" I almost stood up when I fail to catch my grip and luckily, the woman held my arms before I was sent down on my arse once more. "Where are they?" She led me quietly into their living room and guided me to seat right in front of the man who did this to Carl.

"The officer is giving blood inside together with your friend. They're okay. He'll be okay." My lips started to quiver real bad I had to look down and hold my _shit_ together.

I'm seething, but I knew it wasn't his fault—but my mind was far too barren to look for logic and sense right now. "I-I'm sorry." He murmured under his breath but I looked away, careful I might do something I shouldn't. I began to think now what I would do to be more observant, to be more careful, to—to at least be knowledgeable that there could be someone more outside the perimeter of the woods.

I've been shot before in my life and to think Carl has gone through it _fucking_ bore deep into my chest. Just then, the doors opened and went through Rick who sat at a chair and Shane that laid his back on the wall. "He's stable for now." I clenched my jaw together because it doesn't make it any lighter. He needs to be okay. I need to see him smile at me, be well.

"Lori has to be here, Shane. She has to know." The thought of the group being so far away with no means to know— _Lori_. 

"Okay, I get that. And I'm gonna handle it. But you gotta be here." My mind found it hard to concentrate when flashes of black and white brought to my vision. A sound, a gun shot, a—a body. I had to shook myself away or I'll be trap inside. I'll be in too deep I wouldn't know how to get back up _again_.

"He's out of danger for the moment." The man they said a doctor came out to the hall and announced it, "But I need to remove those remaining fragments."

"How? You saw how he was?"

"I know, and that was the shallowest one. I need to go deeper to get the others." By this point I'm only holding off my consciousness, holding off an anger I kept inside my heart, holding the calm I refuse to let go off. "His belly's distended, his pressure is dropping, which means there's internal bleeding." A terrifying fact about gunshots are it could leave you scarred for the rest of your life. Literally and mentally. "To even try this, I have to put him under." Immediately, I knew where he was going into. All these explanation of things he has to go through only meant one thing.

"He needs a respirator. What else?" The man who accidentally shot Carl abruptly said.

"The tube that goes with it, extra surgical supplies, drapes, sutures." All of those were all what you could see in an infirmary, and I knew someone who always get sent there it took me a while to know it all one by one.

"If you had all that, you could save him?" Have hope, Rick. Carl is a strong kid. I like to believe that.

"If I had all that, I could try."

"Nearest hospital went up in flames a month ago." The man paused with the look the doctor gave him. "The high school."

"That's what I was thinking. They set up a FEMA shelter there. They would have everything we need." I immediately hoist myself up, feeling my legs beat for a second and my toes probably bleeding because of my boots but I sure can manage. I need to help. I need to do something.

"Place was overrun last time I saw it. You couldn't get near it. Maybe it's better now."

"I said, leave the rest to me. Is it too late to take that back?" Shane muttered under his breath.

"I hate you going alone."

"Come on..."

"I'm going." I raised my hands up, adjusting my grip on the chair while I stood and heave. "I wanna go. We have to save him." I choked up the rush of what I felt within me—may it be that I'm tired or that because my mind kept flashing a _fucking_ memory I kept locked up for so long.

"But you can't move. Your legs would give up half a mile away." The woman wearing pink said that I was afraid she would. And Shane looked as though he agreed.

"Ain't lettin' you go this time, Ramona. For once, _listen_ and stay here." I pursed my lip and was about to contend when I found it futile as soon as I fell back on the seat and slump myself back. I don't wanna be worthless, I don't just wanna sit here and _fucking_ lounge around while Carl was dying!

"Where is she? Your wife?" Rick told her about our location on the woods and on the group that I started scrambling from the couch and halted the woman in her hasty steps. "You can't—"

"I ran miles longer than this _shit_ and if you don't let me have purpose I'm literally going to rip all my hairs out." She looked like she's contemplating for a little bit before sighing and pulling me into my arms, securing my weight around her arms while she led me out of the backdoor and on to the stables.

"I'm Maggie." She murmured, getting a baseball bat laid down on the top drawer and rounding up the saddled horse. I followed next, putting my feet over at the back and held on her waist for support.

"Ramona." She blasted the ropes around the horse that neighed and went on the way, my heartbeat increasing drastically throughout the whole process of finding our group and telling them that—that Carl's been shot. It was so unreal. "T-Thank you." I mumbled amidst the galloping horse and I saw her nodded, handing me the baseball bat and carried it with my free hand all while my head flew deep into space.

One more flashing memory behind my eyes before the quick strides of the horse disturb me from the thought.

It didn't take long for us to hear noises, screaming as it would seem. Maggie willed the horse towards the echoing sound and I found a figure with white clothes lying on the ground while a snarling creature tries to get to it. Maggie turned to me and I nodded, my grip on the baseball bat tightening that as soon as we passed by did it met with a sickening crack right on its skull. I knew it wasn't enough but Maggie doubled back and I caught sight of our group.

Here goes _fucking_ nothing. "Lori!" I shouted as soon as I handed Maggie back her bat and went down the horse. I knew what I was going to say but as soon as I saw her, I couldn't take out the sight of Carl when he fell on his back from the mere force. "Come with her. N-Now!" I immediately commanded that she drew closer and found speckled blood on my shirt. She looked at me, horrified but confused. "Carl—Carl's been shot. He's alive but please, go, now!" Her grip loosened on my shoulders and most immediately did she drop her bag to my hands and hopped at the back of the horse.

"Rick said you had others on the highway, that big traffic snarl? Backtrack to Fairburn road. Two miles down is our farm. You'll see the mailbox. Name's Greene!" I trust Glenn to get it all in his memory for I stood there, carrying Lori's pack while my mind raveled to the shot. It kept on ringing in my ears. I—I hated it.

But as soon as Daryl drew closer to me holding those eyes, looking at me like _that_ , like when I grazed my forehead, my head fell down on his shoulders and weep. I never knew for how long, how much, and most importantly how it injured my pride and character but it built up to me like a bitch. I had to let it out. Although not long did I step back, afraid I might be hogging his personal space and walk towards the path that lead the highway.

I ignored most of the questions for a long while and nobody asked after a few minutes of clear signs that I'm about as shock as I could be. I knew battlefield. War is child's play. But never have I expected to see a kid get shot, one who made my heart swell, fall back into all fours as blood grew on his stomach... "Ramona?" Glenn drew closer to me and tugged my shoulders, as if careful and still, very worried about what happened. I could see it in his face.

"C-Carl's been shot by a man who was targeting a deer. The bullet went through the animal and straight through where he was, putting him in and out of consciousness. They had to get the shrapnel out of his body, he needs a lot of blood, and Shane is out to get more supplies to save him." I finally able to muster an answer and soon the silence remained while we walk, hearing a grunt as we neared the road and found it to be Daryl.

"Yur limping." He muttered and then I just noticed that indeed, I was. My left leg was in pain most probably from the way I stretched it out real bad from running, and my boots never the slightest of comfort for wearing it far too long and far too much. 

"I ran. My boots were unforgiving." It took me aback how he drew closer, his head bobbing to the left that it made me question what he was on about. 

"Yur not about of use later on if yu keep putting pressure on it." My hands reluctantly held on his shoulders for support but he slit his eyes and I didn't wanna be told twice. I held on it, putting pressure on the good leg while the pain eased on the other. "Good now?"

"Gotta be."


	18. Alone

_"She can't have seen everything, can she?"_

_"She's just a little girl. What would happen to her after this?"_

_"I'd be a fool not to know she'll live her life through hell after this."_

* * *

I stayed at the car nearby while they talk about what just occurred minutes ago. Kept asking me questions about how the house was like, was it safe, or were there many survivors there that I answered with mere shake in the head, a quick yes or no.

Every minute, the pain in my leg comes back and soon did I just found out that the reason I was feeling this pain so much is because... _I ran out._

I never leave without my medicines. One I take to get up and about. They weren't illegal drugs—or _at least_ they were not when it's prescribed to us. I always take that box of pills everywhere, tightly pack inside of the pockets of my belt. I never forget about it, never miss a pill a day for it, but never noticed amidst our eventful journey that I never took any for a while and dumbly realized that it's all gone.

Nada. Nay. **Zero**.

I whined and grunt on the hood, massaging my legs as much as I could while I think about my depleting health. Those drugs were once our lifeline, that one that keeps us going no matter how tough the battlefield gets. That—and the other one could be pretty much booze. Ain't no booze around here as far as I know.

_Wait_.

"Daryl." I called, finding him lay his back on the other car across from me while wiping down his bolts. He didn't look, as always, "Still got Merle's vodka?" He finally warranted me a glance, a frown lacing his forehead that made me shrug and tug the corner of my lips. "Just a sip?" He shook his head, going back to his previous task leaving me utterly frustrated. This selfish idiot loves their brotherhood so much that without Merle, he still wouldn't stop taking care of his things. Like precious things they are. Merle doesn't even give a _shit_ about him—I wonder what made him so loyal like this. Daryl deserves better in my opinion. "I'm throwing a ball here, Dixon. My leg hurts like a real bitch and you know, alcohol? Kinda makes everyone numb for a bit? Ring a bell? Ding dong?"

Never uttered a word. Instead, he threw the towel at the back of his pants while he walked away from me.

_Great_.

Well, I don't need his permission anyway. I'm desperate, my feet are killing me, and I couldn't take this bitching pain anymore.

I'm sure Merle won't mind. No ones gotta know.

When I found him turned right at RV, only then did I drop my feet on the pavement, limping towards his bike not far away from me, and opened the satchel bag hanging at the front of the bike. I dug my hands around, finding plastics, bottles among other things, and successfully, dug a skeleton figure which held the most glorious vodka I've yearn to drink just so I wouldn't feel anything.

_Just for a short time._

I scanned my surroundings like a paranoid thief while uncapping the bottle, taking three big swigs that my throat didn't like very much, and very quickly putting it back on its place while I limp my way back to the car. I laid down, burping that ugly taste lacing my tongue and for a while, the pain slightly went away together with an expected nausea. I hissed upon taking out the boots away from my feet, looking at the awful sight of my bloodied foot and cursing inwardly whilst the vodka helped subside it for a short while.

I hated this. I hated my feet. I hated how I got no meds left. I hated how we could lose Sophia. I hated how Carl got shot. I hated that I'm here and couldn't do shit just because my legs wouldn't cooperate with me. I'm a pain in the ass, more likely. A heavy burden and I hated every bit of it. Why can't anything in my life go right for once? Isn't that the question we all needed an answering? Then what? Instead, it gave us a _fucking_ walking corpse. _Hilarious_.

"Here." I opened my eyes while clutching close to my leg, seeing T-Dog in front of me covered in sheet and looking as weak as I've never seen him before. He sat himself down, his hands still handing me the packet of smokes within his grasp. "Chill the _fuck_ out, firecracker. It's showin' in your pretty face." I grabbed the packet out of his hands and noticed just how warm he is.

"Holy hell, T. You're burning up." I hoist myself away from the hood and down to ground with him, looking at his swollen arms that are certainly not at its best condition. I know much about lacerations and that is the _worst_ of them. "It's beginning to get an infection. We should get you some help—like right now!" He laughed.

"Not until you smoke one and chill your ass." I sighed, most certain T-Dog was having an endless amount of pain and trauma that caused him to act like this—but I still did as he said. Put a cigarette in between my lips and light it up, blocking the noise inside my head and blowing a puff of smoke that bellowed over us. "Wanna run away with me, doll?" He murmured groggily, eyes fluttering weakly I bet he never even noticed.

"Man, I wish I could." I inhaled the dried out cigarette and breathed out, long and low before bobbing my head on the car and hissing from the way I stretched out my legs. "Running ain't gonna do shit. It's gonna chase ya. We can't keep running like this, losing people, get smaller by the minute." I hear him huff beside me.

"Such a buzzkill, firecracker!" He was in deep delusion right about now, "You and me, we're different 'round here. You're the psycho military who kept in the dark, I'm the black man here. They don't appreciate us. You know that, boo."

"Psycho military? Really?" I snort.

"Ma'am, you can kill three walkers in no under than three minutes. I'd like to think ya gotta be psycho to do that without rage, without—holding ya self back!"

"And how can you actually say they don't appreciate us?" He faced me, groggy as he can be and grinned.

"They can't even remember your name sometimes."

I huffed, "Hardly a reason to assume—"

"Anybody ever look at you without _fear_ in their eyes?" I frowned, mixtures of confusion passing my brain for a minute while I processed what he was saying. As though I was a computer, breaking down and got a virus. Like ads popping up in front of my face asking me questions I never wanted to hear the answer to. It was beyond ridiculous because I'd like to believe T was partly hallucinating and partly unaware of what he was saying and doing. But never did it stop his consciousness to tell a fact, a truth I refused to believe.

_Do they_ —Do they really look at me like that?

I never knew how long I stayed looking afar but I smoked the last two more on the packet, feeling dryness on my throat while I couldn't feel the pain in my legs anymore. T-Dog was snoring beside me, I was apparently lost once again, and it's ridiculous to admit that the fact surprised me. I know it shouldn't. Why should I care about what any people see in me, right?

Right?

I blew the final smoke that just then, Daryl's face came into view. I looked at him in the eye, finding a clue. Finding just one slight twinge of fear in his eyes and failed. Well, Daryl isn't afraid of me. That man wasn't afraid of anything. But my brain can't help be bothered by the fact. "Yur comin' with Glenn to the house." He leaned down on the car but I stayed on my place while I still look at him. _Does Daryl fear me, too?_ _Maybe he's just too good for me not to notice it._

"And the others?"

"You, Glenn, and T will go. We stay here for one more night. Gotta set up sum sign for Sophia if ever she gets back." My nose scrunched and thought just how much Daryl was putting into finding her. I could see him. I could see how he never slept, how he keeps up on the look at the forest as if magically conjuring Sophia just so we could move on now. People may not know much about him but he had a lot on his mind—and this might be all rooting about what happened to Merle. How he was gone, too. So, now, he kept finding her just so he couldn't lose everything. At least that was my deductions about him. I can be wrong.

"I'm not going." I shook my head and saw him roll his eyes almost dramatically for me. "What? You can't force me to go, Dixon. I'll be here. I'll stay. I'll help you find Sophia." His eyes lingered for a split second that never failed my eyes. This new Daryl, one that never lives behind his brother's shadow was something I'd prefer other than him being quiet on the sidelines.

Why... why the hell am I even thinking about all these?!

Must be the vodka. Right. _Fuck that_.

"A'ight." I woke up T by his shoulders, wiggling him a little bit until his eyes lazily fluttered open. Daryl steps back, bobbing his head on Carol's Cherokee that I led T in.

"You sure you're not coming with us?" Glenn asked while looking at me from the driver's seat that I shook my head about.

"Need a lot of manpower to find Sophia. We can't stop trying." Spiderman gently smiled at me that I pulled down his hat which urged him to chuckle. He waved goodbye last as I watch the car go, and could only hope Glenn is paying attention to the road.

I turned, hissing when the throbbing pain on my foot came back again, only to be met with a bottle hanging in front of me. An orange prescription bottle of painkillers he behold, and I never had the need to ask why he has this. _God, no wonder Merle's screw are totally unhinged_. "Can't spare the vodka?" I say after grabbing the bottle that he huffs while shaking his head. "Worth a try." I shrugged, grabbing two pills from the bottle and downing together water from the truck made it feel heavenly.

_Fuck you, foot._

* * *

I would never forget just how grateful I actually am for finding sneakers that fit me amidst this rumble of cars. Odd, though. But certainly not gonna say no to free shoes that felt heavenly, and had my food rested for a little while it's starting to get better than it was moments ago.

I roam around the shallow parts of the woods for a little while after I feel like I could walk normally now. It's already sundown that I had to bring in a flashlight with me, going left to right, finding clues and trails that might lead me to somewhere new. A new lead that could point us just where exactly did she turn and what spooked her so much she had to take another way and not straight back.

I always used to hate the woods when I was a child. I hated how it looked gloomy, deserted, and as if every corner your turn would be the same one. Never gave me a peace of mind, really. It's hunting, not knowing what's out the vast forest. The reason why I never ventured far to the acres of land until I joined the military. Training tends to make you forget about the fears you'll ever have, makes you think that nothing could ever scare you anymore. Not even a barrel pointed on my skin could give me shudders.

Not even a curious cat following behind me with his pretty little bow and arrow— _crossbow_. "Stalking is a federal offense, _Legolas_." I imagined just how ridiculous it would be to turn and actually find Orlando Bloom with long blonde hair, pointy ears, and bow while dressed in an old tunic. But alast, it was indeed, Daryl, and I snorted thinking of the fact that he could be an _elf_ , too. He loves his crossbow way too much.

"How'd yu know?" I hear him say which put a grin in my face.

"A magician never tells his secrets, Dixon." I turned, pointing my index finger from left to right with a smirk on my face. He only shook his head, walking right beside me while he held his precious weapon.

"Yur foot." He murmured, absolutely ignoring my remarks while we sauntered about the dark woods. The only thing shining through was our flashlight and the moonlight above.

"Found new sneakers by the old car. Fits me greatly it's starting to be better now." It's not entirely the truth and not a lie either. It still hurts sometimes, but not so much that caused me to still limp about. "Thanks for the _drugs_." I mumbled ludicrously under my breath which I knew he heard but never answered. Classic Daryl.

For a while, the silence enveloped us until I spoke again, "Where'd you think she went?"

"Gotta be a farm house nearby where she stayed the night. Don't exactly know but this ain't the mountains of Tibet. It's Georgia. She gotta be here. Holed up somewhere, starvin'." I cringe at the thought of a kid getting lost somewhere she doesn't know, and had nothing else for defense other than if she mustered up bravery. But that's a fool's hope. "People get lost, they survive. Happens all the time." _Huh_ , someones a little _chatty_.

"I take it you speak from experience." He side eyed me and huffs, a small smirk in his face I could clearly see while darting the flashlight at him. "Come on, Dixon. It's only us in here. Nobody else gotta hear about your sob story." I try to playfully urged him that I didn't even know what came to me. Maybe I was still a little drunk—or maybe the painkillers and vodka swirling on my stomach made a bad side effect on my brain. But, I'm feeling a little chatty as well. Never in my life. _Huh_. 

"Was way younger when I got lost." I smiled, nodding while telling him to continue. "Nine days in the woods eatin’ berries, wipin’ my ass with poison oak." O—kay, maybe not that graphic and descriptive.

" _Son of a bitch_ must've hurt awfully, huh?" He grinned—he just did. And this is without Merle. Just me and him. Kind of an achievement, isn't it?

"Darn right." I smiled, couldn't laugh loud enough that I only settled with a soft chuckle.

"How did they found you?"

"My old man didn't. He's out on a bender with sum waitress. Merle was doin' another stint in juvie. Didn't even know I was gone." _Son of a bitch_. "I made my way back, though. Went straight to the kitchen and made myself a sandwich." I bit my lower lip and figured how much it took him to tell me this story. If it was someone else, they'd be sobbing out of their ass because of the shame of it all. But here he is. A strong, resilient Daryl Dixon before me. To open up a sad story and make it sound less horrible is a talent. "Yur right." I hummed, all lost in deep thoughts. "Hell, my ass itched somethin' awful for weeks." I snort, finally willing myself to laugh and if that wasn't amusing enough, Daryl had to flash me his lights with an incredulous grin going on in his face.

"You got sum kick in my story, huh? Ain't seen you laugh that bad since—"

"You can shut up now, Daryl." I could see him eyeing me from my left and that made me roll my eyes. "I know. Since I fell from that tree and laugh at myself for being stupid. Shut up." It was his turn to chuckle that amused me even more. It turned out to be hilarious for dear redneck that I dropped myself on a branch on tree and plenty of them told me i laughed, so hard at that I couldn't almost remember it. Glenn says I looked funny—and creepy.

"Ya gotta admit that was funny. Concussion really did yu bad." I shoved him away as I turn into the corner, still hearing him chuckle from behind me when a small sound stopped the both of us. 

A rustle of leaves that made me raise up Knifey and took a stance, slowly treading the small corner of the trees. My feet almost never making a sound as the tree rustles though immediately, found where the sound is coming from."What the hell." _That was underwhelming_. "Got bit. Fever hit. World gone to shit. Might as well quit." Daryl read the paper stuck on the tree hanging that I snorted.

"Man got a knack in rhyming. Should've been a rapper." He looked at the corpse hanging on the tree and the sight of it was quite gory, to be honest. Feet hanging below, all skin and bones.

"Dumbass didn't know enough to shoot himself in the head.

Turned himself into a big swingin' piece of bait. And a mess." I certainly did not want that image around my head. Rather I'd take the image of poison oak than bloodied skin and bones hanging from a tree with all hope lost. He opted out, but he never knew the measure of this thing. Of—of this plague.

I turned and try to mute out the groans on the tree. Sighing to myself when I took a seat at the reclining chair and sees Daryl going inside the tent to ransack it. "I got lost, too. You know." He stopped fiddling inside the man's bag and sat, placing his crossbow carefully at the side while turned to me. "The fact is, I wasn't young. A dumb eighteen year old that got lost at the woods and nobody ever noticed." He huffs.

"Old man on a bender? Brother in juvie?"

I smiled and shook my head, "Don't have anybody else."


	19. Care

Morning came after that we knew it was time to go.

I held my hands against the jug of water inside the truck, washing away the remaining white stain in my hands that I used after painting a couple of cars together with Carol and Daryl, letting Sophia know that if ever she found her way on the road again, we will come back every morning as much as we can to get her. It was the least thing we could do instead of riding out in the middle of a highway as bait—and the group needed to stay together or we'll be all damned.

"'ey, lil bit." Daryl called from the motorcycle after wiping my hands on the towel beside it, turning to his direction from the motorcycle that I immediately grabbed my pack and essentials before clamoring on the motorcycle. Feeling the unwavering need for personal space but brushing it off as it was already a spoken agreement that I ride with him. Whenever. _Wherever_.

We drove out to the instructions Maggie gave us, finding the mailbox with the name _Greene_ and finding the farm where several people stood from afar. "I'll go by the RV." I say to Daryl, hopping away from the bike to get the latch from the gate and letting the vehicles enter before putting it back in and running to reach the RV, holding tight by the ladder until it stopped just in front of their door.

My feet led me slowly until the car Andrea drove, leaning back to the hood as I was just glad we're all together now. I mean—that's what groups are, right? Sticking together no matter how beaten and shitty it might get, no matter who had some loose screw or dreading, you gotta stick together. And I'm glad seeing us this way.

Rick and Lori came out of the house with seemingly bright as day of emotions. They were practically crystal clear—that Carl was okay... They were smiling, that could only mean one thing. "How is he?" Dale asked just as he went near.

"He'll pull through, thanks to Hershel and his people." Lori's answer pulled a needle poking my chest. Just knowing that would be fine by me, he's okay, everything's going to be just fine.

"And Shane. We'd have lost Carl if not for him." My eyes immediately looked for the man in question before actually realizing that he's already sporting a bald vibe. It brought out the _crazy_ in him—nevertheless, maybe he's having redemption. Who knows, right? Maybe he screwed his loose tight, saving Carl was also his saving grace. I'd like to believe that.

Everyone walked closer to each other and hugged while I stayed leaning on the hood of the car, just smiling is all I could do—until I found Lori walking closer to me. "Rick says he hadn't seen anyone run so _fast_ like you did yesterday." I knew she wanted to hug me, too. Her movement says it all and I sigh, why not, right? It's not like it's the end of the world or that I'd lose my sanity the moment I let someone hug me. So, I leaned closer and she gave me one of her motherly hugs, being an awkward girl that I am, I only tap her back a couple of times before initiating away. _Woah_ , hugging is such a task. "Thank you, Ramona." She smiled last, nodding as she walked away and I shivered back up my personal space.

No more hugs after that. _Phew_.

* * *

We were all standing by the collection of stone that stood in front of us. Hershel asked us to join and pay respects for the man who died—the one who accidentally shot Carl. I knew I was mad at him—I really am, but then again, the consequences shouldn't involve his life. I like to think that everyone makes mistakes, hell, I do. But never does it mean to pay for it this much.

Hershel started his prayer while I stood at the back of Glenn and Daryl. I never much like funerals—I mean, nobody else does. But never have I wanted so much as to attend one. Death only reminds us that our lives are only limited, that we only have **one** chance. And seeing funerals of my dead comrades, of people I care about, it was draining to the core. "Shane? Will you speak for Otis?" My brows knit when he was called. Why him?

"I'm not good at it, sorry." He stated.

"You were the last one with him." _Oh_. "You shared his final moments. Please. I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning." The woman crying must be his wife, and I feel so bad for her. No one could've mustered even the body. It was all... stones.

"Okay." My eyes stayed looking at Shane. "We were about done. Almost out of ammo. We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. It was bad. Ankle all swollen up." He began to walk, his eyes looking at the man's widow while she weeps. "And when I looked back... If not for Otis, I'd have never made it out alive. And that goes for Carl too. It was Otis. He saved us both. If any death ever had meaning, it was his."

I suddenly remembered my days in Sacramento. I wasn't with the squadron that I had before the world has gone to _shit_. I had a partner—well, _indefinite_ **rookie** partner. The man was assigned to me for his first mission, to kill a high-ranking target without so much as a gun into our hands. They wanted it to be silent, clean, and done even before anyone could realize it.

I led the man in his way while our superiors asked me to not do the kill. I obeyed, told him what he needed to do until I found out he has never killed a man in his whole life. It was begrudgingly annoying at first, realizing that he has a larger chance to fail until the day comes that while I cover his back—he _cried_. Hesitant, that man was. It might have taken him two minutes to think about what he's going to do after he disabled the target. I wasn't about to take the kill no matter how much he pace back and forth, but when I yelled his name out loud—the damn rookie stuck a knife in his head.

The rookie looked at me, tear streaked cheeks and barren eyes. Like hard cold eyes looking at me while he led the way without so much as a blink. He looked like that for months after our mission. I was convinced he had lost his mind that one day I saw him behold that eyes with a _fucking_ smile.

And Shane isn't really blinking so much when he did his speech. Wide cold eyes, that was. I would _never_ forget that look.

* * *

"How long has this girl been lost?" We all huddled on the hood of the car while Hershel stood in front of us. I stood beside Daryl, together with Shane, Andrea, and Rick. I was asked to get away from the comforts of the serene view so this better be a mission to look for Sophia and no _bitching_ about.

"This'll be day three." Rick answered when Maggie came close bearing a roll of paper.

"County survey map. Shows terrain and elevations." Maggie laid across the map and using stones, hold it spread as we looked through the contents. It was luck they had this in their farm. Looking for her would be easier without getting ourselves lost on the way.

"This is perfect. We can finally get this thing organized. We'll grid the whole area, start searching in teams." Rick muttered.

"Not you. Not today. You gave three units of blood. You wouldn't be hiking five minutes in this heat before passing out." The doctor says to Rick that had me by surprise. He's an idiot if he thinks he could just walk around casually after giving that amount of blood. He looked like a man who'd been stabbed and was bleeding for half a day. His eyes and complexion even says it all. "And your ankle. Push it now, you'll be laid up a month, no good to anybody." Hershel directed to Shane. I then found the redneck looking at me, I raised my brow at him, almost challenging him before he sighed.

"Guess it's just _me_." I would've elbowed him if it wasn't for the actual caution that he might fire his bolt at me.

" _And_ me." I say grimly and heard chuckling from Rick. _Huh_ , he really has given a lot of blood. He's delusional for laughing casually like that.

"I do think it's best you bring her. You could have a **runner**." He suddenly entertained that idea that caused me to roll my eyes with but a small sarcastic smile etched on my lips.

The redneck grunted. " _We're_ gonna head back to the creek, work our way from there." I turned my smile sweetly to the redneck—well, sarcastically still, but nevertheless cautious. I won't have a bolt in my ass.

"I can still be useful. I'll drive up to the interstate, see if Sophia wandered back." Shane suggested that I somehow agreed with.

"All right, tomorrow then. We'll start doing this right." I nod, almost ready to turn when it still wasn't done. _Ugh_. Can we go now?

"That means we can't have our people out there with just knives. They need the gun training we've been promising them." Andrea perked up from the topic I almost snorted. The girl really was determined to learn about firing a gun. Would she realize the commitment of firing it to a geek? To an actual moving creature that once was a normal human? If she does then she better stop bitching about til then. It was hard enough listening to everyone wanting to possess a gun they don’t know how to use. 

"I'd prefer you not carrying guns on my property." _Excuse me?_ "We've managed so far without turning this into an armed camp.

"All due respect, you get a crowd of those things wandering in here—"

"Look, we're guests here. This is your property and we will respect that." Rick laid down his gun in the middle of the map, followed by a reluctant Shane which I agreed the second time, and then... silence. Silence until it was all eyes on no one else but **me**.

"I kind of have a problem with not carrying my personal effects on me. If we don't want the problem, we don't want to take away her guns." It wasn't a threat, I promise. It's sort of—the golden rule. Ramona doesn't leave without a gun even if she doesn't use it. I barely even know myself without it.

"I trust Ramona with her gun. Just as long as she'll join Dale on the lookout with the rifle. And then that's all." It was all within my surprise when Shane defended me. Well, he isn't on my good graces but I'll take it. I know he knows about the things I could do. He was more than aware I never wave a gun like a dumbass. I've never use it much at the quarry. Certainly not now. I just couldn't part with it.

"Our people would feel safer, less inclined to carry a gun." The old man nodded. _Thank you, kind sir._

It was all up for the agenda today that I left the conversation before they see anything they'd want me to surrender, _again_. Settling right by the tree where I drank some water, taking a bit of rest before Daryl and I start following trails again—and while he grunted and scowled at my awful sense of humor.

Minutes later, as if I could feel eyes burning on to my skull, I turned and found Daryl, inches a way from me that he bobbed his head and I nod. Straightening my legs and stretching my shoulders as much as I can while we walk towards our first heading. It was far back to the farm, nearly a few feet away before it's all trees and woods out there.

We passed by the fence that I so graciously latched back like a good citizen, following after the redneck who muttered nothing it actually kind of bothered me. "What's going on in your bubble, Dixon?" I asked, stepping towards the tree line where our fantastic journey begins. He never spoke a word though, never even looked at me so I shrugged it off and find better things to distract me with.

Important—much better, like finding a missing girl.

There was nothing for several minutes. All bland and green and dirt looking the same every turn we make. Daryl was kind of on the edge and it was beginning to creep up on my nerves. "Stop throwing tantrums, _hillbilly_." He didn't stop with his quick strides but rather paid me a very narrowing glance. "What? Someone said somethin' bad to you?" Daryl Dixon rolled his _freaking_ eyes on me. "Fine! Whatever. Why do I even ask?!" It's like talking to a wall that glares at you. Do nothing but point those eyes to your soul as if pricking your very eyeballs. _Welp, I am not good at analogies._

I walk a few inches away from him after that, finding my own path and making the distance of our search a little bit bigger while still seeing the redneck, my foot carefully stepping from the thick branch below until my dumbass right foot landed on another stealthy _asshole_ branch. That caused me to fall to my knees, my hands stopping the momentum before I hit my whole face on the pavement. Quickly recovering from it by hoisting myself up as fast as I could and hoping no one would notice that little _stumble_.

Act natural. Don't speak of it. Not a word. It didn't even made a sound that loud. And I think I'm too far from Daryl for him to hear it was an ugly stumble. "Lemme see how many." My eyes turned to Daryl far back to my left, his crossbow slinging from his hands while he fall right next to me.

"How many what?" I frowned.

"—fish yu caught." _What the fuck?!_

 _Hah_ , okay. Redneck found himself a little entertainment when he walked away wearing an ugly smirk. "Alright, laugh all you want, Dixon. I'll be laughing real loud when I see you fall, too." I rolled my eyes and contained what's left of my dignity, following right behind him with thankfully no smirks, and began forgetting how absolutely embarrassing I looked like at his point of view.

We were on about for hours with no clear signs of anything. We couldn't even build up a theory amidst these greenery. But then, a couple of hops later, we emerged from the tree line and found what seems to be an old farm house nearby. It was beaten and old, graying with the times but it didn't look like it was inhabited. The front door was ajar when we reached near, Daryl signalling his hands on me that I nod, my hands carrying two knives as he slowly opened it.

Instinctively, I took the right and he took left. Welcoming me was a living room with cans and cloths, no more than anything while we circled back and I took the stairs. No sound fell on my ears door after door, not even after tapping my shoes on the wood just to gather a reaction. I laid down on my stance as soon as it was cleared, hopping down the steps where I found Daryl looking inside the door I hadn't noticed. There was blanket laid inside, the space too small for an adult—even me, and was right enough possibly for a child. But it was just a theory, nothing more than hopeful leads. Maybe she was here, maybe she wasn't. "Nothing to see here, Daryl." I say when I turned back the door and walk a few more steps away, making sure there isn't any geeks lying around that could take us by surprise.

Footsteps followed that I see Daryl, gesturing the way back from where we came from.

I walk—not long before Daryl stopped to his tracks. I held tightly for my knife and looked around, maybe he could see what I can't? Does he have that sharp of an eyesight now? "Hey, D—" The redneck slouched down by the fence where his hands picked out a flower. A white one, growing almost healthily even after the condition of the place, even after it looked like it was deserted. It bloomed there at the ground. "Huh, who knew there'd still be flowers like these?" He took the other one while I slouched and hovered my hands to the other next to it. "What is it?" I asked, curious as to what it is that caught his attention. I only know two flowers in my whole life. A red rose and a sunflower. Both died on my hands. Even a damn succulent die on my hands and that could've survived with minimal supervision.

"It's a Cherokee rose." Daryl muttered as he walk that I quickly followed through, "The story is that when American soldiers were moving Indians off their land on the trail of tears, the cherokee mothers were grieving and crying so much 'cause they were losing their little ones along the way from exposure and disease and starvation." _Oh_. "A lot of them just disappeared. So the elders, they said a prayer; asked for a sign to uplift the mothers' spirits, give them strength and hope." He—He was telling me a story. Not hick-ish, not a good ol' southern drawl. Just a real... story. "The next day this rose started to grow right where the mothers' tears fell." Wait, is this... is this for... _Carol_? "Darn hell if there's a flower bloomin' for Merle." I wanted to laugh but—but I can't. "But I believe this one bloomed for Sophia."

I held on his arm tight, might have been too tight than I meant to but it was all I ever did before it fell and willed my eye on the trail, hearing him follow right after me. I clenched my jaw, my head couldn't wrap around that he told me just... that. That... story. Like he wasn't that old grumpy hillbilly who muttered slurs along his brother at night. I wanted to believe it's the different guy—but no, he really is that. He really did say that.

I didn't know why I held at him, though. Maybe that was because to make sure I wasn't dreaming? I got no guess but I try to brush it away. As much as I could.

Daryl Dixon really _cared_.


	20. Trigger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Oh my god! Thank you for giving my story a chance! For the Kudos, the Comments, or just the ghost readers that are lingeringggGGGG!! I see yaaa! Hehehe! Thank u for sticking up to this piece of a mess. I love Ramona. I really do. She helped my humor alot. Sksksksks hahahaha. 
> 
> Anw, kudos & comments would be appreciated! Send sum <3
> 
> Two updates for the day! And for new readers—well, I update whenever I can? No schedules. Just as long as I had my juices going, I’ll give u some quality content!

Oh, _no_. This? This is some messed up _shit_ right here. 

"For the love of earth, please don't tell me you're not sporting the biker redneck anymore?" Daryl sneered at me, passing by me while intentionally hitting my shoulders causing me to laugh as much as I can before turning with a failing straight face. He looked at me again, one last darting eyes before he went away looking like _that_.

"It fits him. I think he looked good on it." Carol said that I snorted, handing me another round of clips that I held on with my other hand while the other clipped it on the makeshift clothesline. I figured while being out here on a rather safe place we found, that maybe I could help around do women things. I realized upon waking up next to my newly washed tank that I haven't done it for a while now. I couldn't even remember since when. And no one really asks me too. The reason why when I found Carol going to her other batch of laundry, I figured I'd help.

And I must say—we are _filthy_ as fu—"I can't believe I slept in." Lori walks near us, grabbing a clip from my other hand with a smile. "And I can't believe I'm seeing _you_ here." I rolled my eyes playfully.

"Well, I didn't see myself here either but I got nothing better to do, _yet_." Carol laughs.

"She's not bad for a beginner, _either_." Beginner? Me? In doing laundry? Alright, _maybe_. Maybe I don't do my own laundry. Maybe I had someone wash them before. "Ramona did most of the work. I almost thought she's stealing my job." I chuckled.

"My dear sweet Carol, without you I'd be actually ripping the shirts into five separate pieces." I wasn't joking but the two laughed at me like I was. Well, it isn't. I was actually pissed about not scraping off the last of the smudge of goo that I had ruined my own shirt because of it. But whatever, I was so used to wearing battered shirts anyway.

At least I'm not wearing another personality like Daryl. I never saw him without his sleeves and by heavens did it speak loud volumes. Is he doing it as a part of changing persona? Am I going to see another version of Daryl?

"Hey, Mona." Rick called that I turned, not noticing they were having meetings on our conference room called the hood of a car. He walks closer, greeting his wife with a smile and turning to me. "Don't kill me for this but I suggest you stay back here first. Shane and I will be going up this trail over here, Andrea and T-Dog will be the other while Daryl takes the east path. No one would be left here other than Dale." I hummed as he explained while holding on to the map.

"Sure." I dropped the remaining clips on the basket and found that Rick was still staring at me. "What?"

"Sure as in—" I snorted.

"I'll stay back here, officer. My feet are killing me anyway." I would've fought about my rights to help but then, I found my toes still a bit swollen and if I let myself roam around then surely my toes will kill me before a geek does.

"Alright." Rick says almost as though he doesn't believe me but I shrugged it off and went to help with the others on our chores. Bringing food around, making sure our own resources were at par, and looking out the surroundings for any lost geek wandering around. It was a bit repetitive for the most part, no wonder I hunt together with the redneck. His scowls were way more exciting than washing the dishes.

I found nothing at the fields, although the sweet barn lying around forgotten stood from a far. A few feet away from the main house where it stood eerie and cold. Shouting bad omen to me so much so that I hadn't noticed my feet were already taking me close. I looked around, everybody seemed to have been busy on the chores left that I continued, halfway there until a galloping horse swoop by to my left. "First, you're sporting a long sleeve, now, you're a certified cowboy?" Daryl rolled his eyes again. Is this his new thing now?

"Ya comin'?" He's really asking me that? Did Rick not tell him?

"Well, cowboy. I'm afraid I cant indulge you with my presence today. I have far more important things to do than babysit you." The redneck huffed.

"Could've said no." He muttered under his breath but enough for me to hear.

"Awe, you gotta learn how to take subtle rejections, Dixon." He never answered when he rounded up the horse and galloped away from me, the only ever time I laugh while I went back to my simple duties.

* * *

"What?" I counted. Three consecutive heaving sigh, moving about like a little worm, and tapping the book he's holding a couple of times before I finally asked what it was that's bothering him. I never was one to have sentiments, maybe that's just my human fault but then again, it looked like something is bothering our friendly neighborhood spiderman.

"What?" He asked me back that I groaned and drop down on the ground from the tree I was so graciously holed up.

"Tell me whatever it is and I'll listen." Glenn looked at me, feigning surprise before I cocked my eyebrows and see him look down to the ground while looking so anxious.

"This looked like a very bad question to ask you..." I nod, taking a seat beside him at the ground and waited, "But every girl's getting weird around here and I read somewhere that—women who spend a lot of time together had their cycles lined up and they all get super crazy hormonal at the same time..." He paused, making me think about his theory and wondering if it's—right? "No offense! I mean—not you—but you're a _woman_ —you're not _weird_ but are you on your perio—okay that was a horrible thing to ask—" I push him back at the tree while my other hand held on the bridge of my nose. Too many questions. _Brain freeze._

"Okay— _okay_! One by one, alright?" He nodded soon as I let go and faced him. "First, I do think it's not a very good question to ask someone if they're on their period. It's not a conversational material." And that's coming from someone who used to love never talking. "Thank you for not seeing me as weird." He smiled unsurely, "And what made you say—weird anyway? Who else is weird aside from—Andrea?" I agree though, that girl is batshit as me but batshit as in wanted to get herself killed kind of crazy.

"Maggie." My mouth formed a small O. _Huh_ , I knew this was a possibility but I didn't know he was that fast to catch it. Eyes really do say a lot about a person.

"What about her?"

He hesitated and I knew there's something going on around here. Who knew that a day off from the woods would give me a crowning reality show like this. Real life in HD. "Well, she started off being mean to me. Then she wanted to have— _sex_ with me. And now she's being mean to me again! And I don't even want to know what's going on with Lori."

"Wait. What's going on with Lori?" I asked, seemed dubious about what he saw about her. I knew she was pretty hungry lately, from someone who's not eating much I could surely see who had fair shares and not. And cranky! I figured that was because Carl's still at recovery, but she really is acting kind of _unusual_.

"Nothing. I just—"

"And then you and Maggie did it?" He widen his eyes as much as it could get that caused me to chuckle softly. "You had _sex_ with the farmer's daughter without fear!" He looked as though he didn't wanna joke about that so I stopped and composed myself, "Glenn, come on. You're an adult. Maggie's an adult. And sometimes—in this generation, people do it for... _fun_." He looked at me, blinking. Wow, this was so much harder to explain than I thought. "Some people have urges that needed to be filled, and you fill it, and that's that. No strings attached, _spiderman_. I'm sorry." Glenn looked down and nodded, seemingly absorbing the cold hard truth coming out of my mouth. "At least you popped your cherry." He almost spat me with the book if I hadn't leaned away while laughing my arse off.

"I never actually thought you'd be so humurous." I acted shocked all of a sudden but realized I looked like an idiot. Maybe I didn't expect it myself too. But my brain is a _fucking_ piece of work. It's mysteriously hilarious. "I thought you were the grunge type with a dark past." _Yeah_.

"Thought so, too." I smiled, leaning back to the tree next to him and sighed, "Gotta ask you though." Glenn hummed, "What pushed you to be a big boy now? What were you thinking the time you did it?" Was it lust? Was it because there's no obscene magazines or internet that could provide him that. Was he really... sincere? He looks to me like he was. But hearing is always better than assuming.

"I was thinking that I might be dead tomorrow."

And maybe that was it, you know? Maybe that's why Daryl wore longsleeve today, or why I did the laundry and speak more now. Because every day can be our last, and maybe we wanted to make it worth our while.

* * *

It was already half past three.

Rick and Shane were back earlier than the rest. T-Dog came up to me that says him and Andrea were already done. But Daryl seemed to have enjoyed galloping under the sunshine. He isn't back yet. "What's up, boo?" T-Dog asked while I sit on a wooden chair and clean my gun and knives on the table. He sat across from me and carried Knifey, looking at its beauty that were undeniable. Fine black texture with a silver blunt and black handle. It was a stopper. "Where'd you get this?"

"I've had it in my possession as a division incentive when I got in the special ops. They gave us options, either knives or guns. And guns are too loud." He grinned.

"Why is it big, though? I figure you some type of chick that handles smaller but like, twin dagger type of _shit_ , you know what I'm sayin'?" I chuckled at his insinuation.

"It could reach the opponent even if you're not too close. Big guns are always better, big knives are even more." T nodded, laying it back down carefully like a precious gem and looking down at the disassembled parts of my G36.

"Can't part with the gun, huh?" I shook my head, knowing that these are my babies and no one would have the right to actually take it from me. I never even leave this gun anywhere, it's kind of a good luck charm. "Hey, boo. I know I haven't apologize yet... cause, you know. When I called you psycho military? Didn't know what got into me, asking you to run away like that. I'm sorry." T-Dog is one of the people at camp I get along with. Not only because he just usually keeps his wits about himself, but because he's one of the brightest thing we have whenever it's too dark. It's not about sentiments but when T jokes, almost everyone smile or laugh or really appreciated the way he's trying to make everyone cheer up.

"Psycho military is a really catchy nickname, I like it. And thinking of running away isn't so bad. Don't beat yourself up to it. We all wanted to run away at some point." _Ain't that the truth._

"Walker!" Andrea suddenly shouted from the top of the RV that I left the parts I was holding while bearing two knives on my person. " _Walker_!" My feet were immediately in stride while I hear steps behind me following through. We couldn't risk the guns from here, it'll only create noise and a herd we couldn't afford, and besides, what were they so worried about? It's only one walker. I could let it walk towards the fence as to not actually tire myself out but it had to be done before the old farmer sees. That man looked like a doctor that's afraid of death.

I stopped to my tracks when I was a few inches near. Smiling to myself as I got to use my Knifey again when the familiar patterned shirt almost made me drop it. Wait—"D-Daryl?" Bloodied mouth, sleeves torn off with bloods about him, ears— _fucking_ ears hanging around his neck while he limped like—like—

"Is that Daryl?!" The voice almost echoed on me when I saw him look like that. And I thought I was wise and would never see the day that he actually—

"That's the third time you've pointed that thing at my head.

You gonna pull the trigger or what?" _Holy fucking shit. The son of a bitch is alive._

"You are one crazy _son of a bitch_ for limping like th—" A sharp sting past my ear and soon, I opened my eyes and found myself in all fours while a loud white noise blared in my ears. I couldn't hear anything, it's like my eyes almost instinctively didn't work when it wouldn't cooperate into looking at what just happened. _White noise_ —white loud noise and blood on my fingers when I reached my left ear.

I blinked again and see that I was already being carried by my waist, T-Dog right beside me speaking, his mouth moving that I was able to catch along but couldn't hear him. Grumbling, ringing noise were taking over my ears. " _You'll be okay, boo. You'll be okay._ " I know I would be okay. It was a gun shot. I am not dumb nor new to it but the experience of it was so goddamn annoying.

I moved my jaw a little bit, opening my eyes again and looking at the surroundings. I was inside a room, sitting on the chair while Daryl's bloodied figure lay down the bed and the doctor tended to him. Rick faced me, speaking but the noise was still there followed by small echoes, " _It's just a graze. I know you understand me. Daryl's fine._ " Daryl's fine? I know he's fine. Why does he need to ask that? " _You're speaking, Mona."_

" _Oh, shit?_ " I see Rick laugh in front of me but I shoved him lightly by his shoulders and slumped my head on my hands. Well, that was embarrassing. But I'll live. I had better issues like _fucking_ hunting the one who grazed my ears and shot Daryl.

I was hopelessly deaf for what seemed like hours until the echoes were starting to get a bit clearer, more distinct now. "Yur cursin' for over than two hours. Let me _fuckin_ ' rest." My eyes flew to Daryl's direction on the bed and I almost laugh, the first thing I hear after a temporary hearing loss is an injured redneck throwing a tantrum.

"What happened to you?" I didn't know if I was shouting yet but I could feel the level vibrations of my voice, seemingly enough of a sound when Daryl looked at me while laying by his side. "Longsleeve was bad luck, ain't it?" I touched my ear and felt that there's a cloth lying on it that I hadn't even noticed. _Huh_ , I really was took by the shock.

" _Fell_ , got pierced by my own damn bolt, lived." I snorted, lying my back to the chair and moving my jaw a couple of times for the ringing to subside.

" _Oh god_." I paused, maybe I screamed but—oh, god. "Y-You fell! _Oh my god!_ " He scrunched up his brows for what seemed like a good second and right when he realized what I said, he rolled his eyes and looked away! That's right, _hillbilly_! "Karma got you so bad!" I almost felt bad about bragging, and felt bad what I said would happen really did happen. But I earned the bragging rights. I made it last for more over than five minutes before calming down on my back and retrieving the silence.

"I must admit," I laugh, "Being a walker is not a good look on you. Doesn't fit the whole aesthetic." Daryl grunted and shook his head, a ghost of a smile I could see before adjusting to my seat and closing my eyes. "Who's the _dumbass_ that shot you?" My teeth gritted, knowing that whoever it might be has to deal with me. That person's lucky I didn't lose my hearing. The force and wave of that was at an alarming rate, I couldn't risk losing my hearing now. That'll be my actual death.

"Nah, yu'd kill her."

"So, it's a **her**. And might I guess or are you going to tell me?" I opened my one eyes and saw him shook his head, knowing now that there aren't much of girls on our group. One is a mother who wouldn't as so much use a gun if not needed, one that wouldn't even hold it in her life, and one happy trigger who must be so estatic holding a rifle while her sane judgement gets thrown out of the window soon as she sees the ' ** _target_** '. Hmm, who could that be? "You're not very good at keeping secrets, Daryl." The ringing was still there albeit the hearing being almost back to normal. Some sounds still came off as hazy but as long as I could hear, I'm going to be fine.

"It's fine, what she did. She didn't know." I snorted.

"I don't care." His head was wrapped around in a bandage that it kind of rages me to see that. One more push to the left, his brains would've blown up from the force. Daryl was one to hold grudges, why was he being reasonable now?

Why was I being so angry now? Oh, right. The _bitch_ almost made me deaf.

"Don't." He grunted just as I reached the door but I paid no heed and went straight outside. Finding the woman sit at the porch together with Dale. The pair turned to my direction, Andrea paling at every second the more I gazed at her.

Oh, she's gonna get the hot seat, alright. "Ramona." I hear Dale called but I wasn't looking at him, I was looking at Andrea. I was trying to make it known how dumb it was to fire a gun in a field where sound could echo god knows where, attract walkers nearby, or maybe kill her own group by one dumb shot. I already said it. She's probably gonna kill somebody using a gun she doesn't know how to operate. Everyone could aim and shoot—but not everyone could do that correctly. "She didn't mean it." I smiled, why does everybody keep saying that, huh? She meant it. She held the gun on her hands. She pulled the trigger all while knowing we were already there! While I was **there**.

She meant it or am I just being a bitch for assuming?

"I'm really sorry, Ramona. I swear—I didn't know." My eyes fell from hers when Rick pulled out rather hastily from the door. His eyes falling to mine and Andrea's. Seemed like it some redneck snitched about me.

"Mona, let's talk about this. Alright? I'm sure Andrea didn't know she'd hit somebody—" Rick explained to me like I'm a dumb child that needed to hear it bit by bit that it actually dawned on me what they're trying to do.

Psycho military. Fearful eyes. Calming gestures. "We'll set up a strict ground rule this time—" I held a finger up, silencing Rick to whatever it is that he's going to tell me just because the officer might be assuming I was going to _kill_ her. I mean, I won't. But I'd sure enjoy the threats.

But, fine. _Fine_. **Fine**. "Ramona! Where are you going?!" 

_Away before I lose my fucking sanity._


	21. Rodrick Missed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TELL ME HOW U FEEL ABOUT THIS CHAPTER!!!! Waaaaaaaahhhh

My feet brought me farther away than I care to notice.

I was all balled up on another tree again. My hearing working just fine now but the slight ringing was still there. It would've taken three days for my ears to get over it and I don't like it at all. I know I used to marvel about loving the war, the battlefield. But there was a slight contemplation amidst the battle, the small moment wherein you stood there, ringing ears and hazy vision from the cloud of smoke, seeing—knowing the screams even if you couldn't hear. The war cries, the curses, and the failure.

I've always hated failure. I hated things never going my way. I hated losing things, not being able to find anything useful. I hated when things never go my way. I admit to that, I knew that. It was an annoying habit for me to think about it repeatedly until I do something stupid like— _I don't know_ , scour the whole woods all by myself in the dark. But like a voice inside my head, it kept repeating, " _Don't do anythin’ stupid._ " I almost laugh if I didn't realize that it was a fake voice in my head, annoying me in a sound of a _redneck_.

Darkness already took over the whole forest when I went down. I was lounging there for hours and I pray to whoever that they wouldn't get me a search party. I hope they'll be too afraid to do that. I didn't like the idea of anyone looking out for me, it's unsettling to get as much people caring about where you might be even if they knew you to do be a literal adult capable of going back on her own.

But I mean, I tried to threaten one of ours a while ago. No one's gonna give a _shit_ right after that I bet.

I followed the trail of where I angrily stomped my feet a while ago, walking about on the tree line by the barn where it stood dark and deserted at most. The establishment was intriguing to me in all sorts of wrong ways. First reasonable fact is that, the barn could be every types of useful. Maybe we could hold up there, like our own little safe place as to not have our people sleep on tents outside. It's cold, doesn't take a genius to know that humans aren't susceptible to hypothermia. Winter is near, we're going to die from exposure out here.

Second reasonable fact, if not for possible settlement, the barn could be useful for storage. I figured laying down objects in empty field would pissed off the old man, that maybe he could spare it with us to use to whatever it is that we need. Knife training could be done there, too!

There are all sorts of ways as to not let a barn rot in this kind of times. It's pretty sturdy, I even held tightly on the wood to make sure that it is— _what the fuck is that?!_

Snarling, grunting— _moans_! And not the good kind of moans, _either_. " _I trust you keep this between us, Glenn._ " A voice with a distinguishable accent I knew all too well. " _Please, don't speak about this to anyone."_ Wait, s—she new? Maggie knew that there's... creatures inside this piece of hell hole?! And she wanted it to be kept a secret? Why else would they want to keep them here? Is it some sort of a really rare collection they're trying to keep while waiting for the world to get back in order? Is the doctor treating them, is that it? He's some kind of a mad scientist now?

Well, this day just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it?

I didn't think I'd sleep after that.

 _No_ , I don't think so at all. But I stayed far from it as much as I can, my hands aching to do what has to be done. Our safety was at a risk. A few steps away from that shithole were the tents we're located at, where we sleep soundly knowing geeks wouldn't much venture far beyond down the farm but I didn't know what to do at best.

Yeah, that's right. Ramona doesn't know what to do for once.

She's human after all. Not a damn killing machine.

But I didn't leave without making sure the damn place was locked to its fullest. Banging on the door myself just to be thorough that no exceeding force would break down the door and eat us off-handedly. It caught quite a few attention from the geeks but I rather added one more piece of plank by the door and backed away while still looking at my back once, twice, fuck ton.

That's a doctor I trust right there. Keeping everyone alive the best he can.

 _Wow, I'm dripping with sarcasm today._ "Where have you been?" My eyes flashed at Rick, the only one so far I've seen that was already awake. It was maybe, 6 in the morning? Judging by the sunrise and the cold air, but it was damn near early for everybody else to wake up so soon. It was only befitting to see Rick up and about while looking all dull and exhausted. Hell, everybody else looked so much like it. These past few days were tiring. Almost as if—three bad jujus happened in a row. Oh, four. Add the _fucking_ geeks at the barn like sitting duck right there.

"Tree." I answered simply, adjusting my seat on the reclining chair I found laying outside the RV. He leaned down on his conference area, looking at me like he wanted to say something. "What?" Rick sighed.

"Yesterday was an accident." I snorted, accident? Really? Is that what they call stupidity nowadays? World is really changing, ain't it? "Andrea pulled the trigger against our terms and it hit Daryl, it hit you. But she only meant it for a walker. She wanted to protect the group. Least we can do about it is see eye to eye. We have one mission here and that's to protect each other. I'm not saying she's right, it was a bad call. But you need to drop it if we're gonna have to work together."

Rick was playing the fair game. I know that—it's how everything else should be played in times like this but no one said I shouldn't hold a grudge. Or that I'm not allowed to be a bitch to her just so she knew how it felt to hear herself and make all the wrong calls that would led to her untimely chance with death. _Maybe that._ Maybe the sleep deprivation was talking. _Potato, potato._ "It's always been my objective to protect the group. But that doesn't mean I'll tolerate her."

"You don't have to." I smirked. "Just don't do anythin' stupid, alright? I trust you know better than be a _firecracker_? That what T-Dog used to say?" I laugh, okay, maybe Rick calling me that sounded weird and funny but like I said, sleep deprivation. My brain isn't on the right function and sure as hell would it laugh on something dumb.

"I won't be a _firecracker_ , officer." Maybe just a little bit. Teeny wee bit.

One by one, our people started going up and about, making breakfast while I laid on my back atop the RV. I was pale and I figured a little sun bathing would do the trick, deeming it worthless when the sun didn't even hit my way and wanted me to stay pale as a ghost. I shrugged, my feet dragging down the ground where when Carol handed me the breakfast—I made sure to eat everything.

It's something else having to eat something normal again, even if it's just potatoes and jerky. I felt a tad bit better after the meal, hoping I'd have some more when Glenn appeared in front of me. He was holding on to a basket full of fruits that I almost salivated if it wasn't for the fact that he kept looking at the barn. "Hey, Mona? Want some peach?" He spoke, only sparing me a glance soon as I fumbled my hands inside and found more food.

"What chu lookin' at there, Glenn?" I took a bite out of the peach I'm holding with a smirk written all over my weary face. He glanced back at me, wide eyed and horrified that it doesn't take a genius to know something's bothering him. "Don't wanna get locked up there. It's a creepy barn." I feel so bad for messing with him like this. But this was sleep deprivation talking, I had no control over it. "Scurry now, _spidey_. I think Shane wants some peach." Glenn nodded at me at once.

I can't let it be known that I knew the secret. Glenn looked to me like he was about to burst any given second and I couldn't trigger that right in front of everybody else. I was sensing deep trouble running to this family I'd rather not get our group involved right away. There has to be a reasoning behind it, right? No matter how dull, useless, or straight-up bullshit it was, they gotta have a reason and I needed to hear it. I had an inkling feeling that I should hear it.

Hence, I stood up from where I was sitting and decided to pay Carl a visit. I saw him walk a while ago together with his mom. I didn't wanna ruin their quality time early in the morning but judging how Lori was already doing chores, I assume Carl was free now. "Hey, buddy." I greeted soon after seeing him sit behind the RV. I haven't seen him much upon hearing him healed, and sure as hell did it lift a heavy weight when I saw him smile at me like that again.

No one could really take away the innocence of this boy. Not even after being shot. His smile was still the same as ever. "Mona!" He walked closer to me, sporting his Dad's hat that surely fits him right. "I was looking for you. You're always away." _Oh_.

"Well, I'm here now, officer. I'm glad you're okay now." I smiled at him, contemplating for a second what the snarky smile meant when he right away hugged me. Hands wrapped tight around my waist as his hat tip backwards a little bit. I admit I was so caught up I didn't know what to say, what to do or how to even react. I just—dumbly tapped his back a few times before he pulled away with a grin.

"I heard from Dad that you run like a deer. I'd like to see it sometimes!" The boy wanted me to run a marathon and I feel like doing it just so I could keep the smile on his face.

"You will someday, cowboy." We talked for a couple more minutes after that, seeming so that he was still under recovery when a few minutes later I found him sit at the back of the RV while holding on to his knees. A gun shot doesn't heal very easily, much more that the shrapnel spread throughout his body. It was going to be a painstaking healing time for this kid. "I'll be around, alright? Call me when you need me." I hear him thanked me before patting down his shoulders and going through the way of the tents when I see an end of a bolt poking through it.

I stepped back and found Daryl, not noticing he's already out now but sensing better that this hillbilly was much hard headed than I was. He probably didn't like it much to stay holed up with no purpose. We're alike in some ways I refused to admit. "I don't wanna intrude with your quality time but you feeling okay now?" I asked, genuinely so but knowing that this _son of a bitch_ would fight back his sanity even at the hardest times.

He looked at me through the net of his tent, like that, like I have a pair of balls on my cheeks before he looked away and grunted, "Ya." I circled round his tent and found that his was much comfier and spacious than the others. I haven't had one, only a small sleeping bag but that never really do it for me. I'd rather sleep by a tree than holed up to the ground with my face burying in dirt. "Yu killed her?" I snorted, dropping my back next to his cot while I feel a slight tingle of sleepiness calling me.

"Nah. Maybe some other day." I answered, hearing him scoff beside me when I closed my eyes. "Hey, _hillbilly_. Do you mind if I—if I—"

**_;; flashback ;;_ **

_Third Person._

" **Are you** **Ramona Davis**?" The police officer spoke, all dressed in neon green clothing, his hat down to his hands as he got down on one knee to talk to a girl sitting at the back of the ambulance. He was covered in pink blanket around her shoulders. Her brown hair falling down, covering a fraction of her face while still tear-streaked. The officer received no answer to the girl, not a word for over three hours the ambulance called for the police again because if she so much moved an inch, she screamed bloody murder.

They already did it once; it was absolute chaos they were pretty terrified to do it again. "Ramona? Is it? You know, I have a son named Ramon, too." She wouldn't budge for anything that the officer resulted in going down to sit at the cold pavement while his back leaned a few inches away from her. Still looking down, still not saying a word. "He's a playful kid, I tell ya. He wouldn't so much last a day without even pranking me." The nurses and EMT's looked at the officer, he signaled them to go that they immediately followed. He was asked to specifically work with her even if he was on another side of town. They knew the officer to be quite a charm with the kids.

"Without pranking her sister, her mom, and even his own best friend. And that was how our day used to go by. All running around, looking for stuffs to do, worms to pick out at the backyard while he put it at the top of his best friend's hat."

The officer laugh to himself, "They were close, those two. They never fall apart to each other, always fought but never couldn't last a day so angry at one another. They've had pretty bad fights. He'd say things the other didn't like, he'd do things my son wouldn't. And at the end of the day, you wanna know what happens?" He looked, anticipated even the slightest move and almost rejoiced when her head tilted to his side. Just a little bit, almost unnoticeable. "They forgive each other for what they've done. And I like to think that they built a good friendship over their fights. They love one another and everything else is just a path we all needed to go to."

"Ramona, dear, I know you may be too young to understand this, or maybe you're not because as I've gathered, you're a pretty smart girl." He offered a friendly smile, hoping she'd budge because the weather wouldn't be at its best later on that day, and he wouldn't wanna force a little kid to move against her own will. She was in a state of shock; no one should make her do what she couldn't. "You will know one day, to find forgiveness in your heart. Your best friend? I know he loves you. I know you can still feel it in your heart. And what mattered the most is that you were there for him when he needed you the most. You loved him with all your heart."

The girl mumbled, softly and near incoherent but he tried to make sense with it. " ** _Is he dead?_** " The girl asked that the police officer knew he's slowly making progress. It was indeed, true, that reverse psychology worked wonders. "Tell me, **is he dead**?" It was a bit odd though, to say the least. A little girl, asking it in such a monotonous voice. But the police officer nodded. "Then he doesn't have to suffer now, right?"

It was possible to say his breath hitch, "Yes, Ramona." The girl dropped her foot on the ground, surprising the EMT standing by that they immediately followed suit and guided her towards the vehicle she's supposed to be into. The officer resumed putting his cap on his head, completing the last duty for his day while he watched the girl silently following to the instructions.

" _Son of a bitch_ , you made her move!" He liked to think it as a success, not much of a hard-earned won but the reasoning behind it stops him altogether for celebrating. "What'd you say to her?" His partner asked, the one residing back at the car and had watched it all happen.

"That her best friend was dead." The other cop heaved a sigh.

"Well, I supposed anyone outta ask the same question when your best friend would actually want to kill you." The words didn't sit well with him, not really. "Her first report to the call was that her best friend seemed to be out of mind. Her own words. That he asked her if she would've wanted to die with him and be best friends together forever. This is so _fucked_ up." It was, he knew it was. "The little girl wanted no part of that crazy shit, said, and I quote, ' _He was trying to shoot me. Rodrick missed three times_ '. He threw the gun at her head, apparently. That explained the bruise on her forehead. And when she gets a hold of the gun, he was already trying to run her with a _fucking_ knife! God, this girl was able to describe it all? While—screaming?! That makes my stomach sick. I ain't lettin' my child have best friends now after this."

The office sighed, closing the door of the car and riding in the passenger seat while they watch the other car go its way to the hospital. "That girl would freak with guns growing up." Somehow, the officer believed she wouldn't. She was shaken, all up to seeing the death of her best friend. Hell, everyone would. Killing is not a task that should be done—certainly not a nine-year-old. Never to a person who she loves so dearly. But she was too strong to cower down by the gun, too strong to not let herself get killed by no less than a knife—not even with persuasions.

He would wager that the little girl would be able to fend for herself someday.

_He believes that._


	22. Not Mine

Holy shit, I really slept it in.

It was a surprise to wake up away from the thick comforts of a tree. Quite a breeze waking up inside a tent where fresh air and the moonlight shone beneath. I almost drifted again to sleep if not for my dumb self literally forgetting that there are geeks at the barn, that they could escape any time now for all we know (bad fucking juju, duh?), and that it was going to be in my worse conscience if someone gets bit by my carelessness.

This—This thing. This secret was absolutely not my finest suit. No secret should be kept within a group, not when you have to work together and fend for each other. Everything should be said, should be kept in a mum, and things like these had to be taken care off or we'll all die because of our stupidity—my stupidity.

I needed to get up first. That's the plan that stopped me when I noticed a ragged blanket over my shoulders. I shrugged it away, not knowing how I come by it and hastily grabbed all my effects before running outside to find the rest of the group out of sight, probably in dinner—and a redneck a few feet away while burning his own dinner. My eyes quickly flashed at the barn. So far, there wasn't the slightest movement but I kept my eye on it until I reach the hillbilly having fun with his squirrels.

"You should've woken me up. I was useless today." I say, dropping down the ground where I still had the barn set in my eyes. I only hear Daryl scoff, munching down to the food once my eyes fall on him. "What? Is it because— _oh right_. Sorry. I drifted off on your tent. My bad." The sarcasm was fluid I know he knows it too. But then again, I wasn't sorry. Who cares if that was his space? I didn't sleep on the cot next to him! I was on the ground, on the cold, hard surface.

But the redneck only spared me a two-second glance before looking away. "What are yu doin' 'ere? Yu should be inside. Eatin'." I shrugged, never feeling like it to join them inside as I knew I needed to be here, taking watch for the barn while my head decides if I should tell anyone else—maybe Daryl? But what was he gonna do if I tell him? Probably shout at me for keeping it? Run there in pure rage as he shot every last one of them? I'd certainly like that but then again—there it is. Nagging at the back of my head. A voice telling me to ask. To know just _why_ before I turn them all into a real corpse.

That's exactly what I did the next morning when I volunteered to get the eggs for breakfast. Carol was the least bit surprised that I did but it was only for me to find Maggie and ask her what's been going on. Pretty much at times like this, I'd be a raging killer machine by its safety risk but then again, my need for answers was far greater than being just... an agent task to kill. "Hey, Ramona?" My eyes found the girl sitting on the kitchen as she cut down a few vegetables, I went there immediately and sat across, her smile slowly fading away the more I look at her.

"Why?" It was short, maybe vague, but for someone keeping secrets—it says it all. Her eyes nearly failed her if it wasn't for the build-up courage I saw in her the first time. Masking the possibility of letting it known that maybe, she fears? She's angry? Torn?

"You were never supposed to see that." Well, I did, ma'am. "You don't have business—"

"How about we skip the unnecessary bullshit and get straight to the point before I tell everyone what's up with the creepy barn?" Looks like that got her riled up by the way the knife was hitting the table. "Yes, I'm ratting you out but not because I hate you or your family. I'm a soldier, Maggie. If I see the least bit of risk of us dying, I'd eliminate that risk. Make it disappear. That's what I do—but I didn't, right? Because I'm giving you a chance to tell me, **why?** " She looked away and drove the silence for so long I almost quit being civil when I stood up to leave until she spoke again.

"They're family. They're—sick." Sick? Don't they mean dead? "They were our neighbors, p-people we love. We believe that someday they'll be cured when this is all over. That we're going to be whole again." Oh, _no_. "You can't let them know, Ramona. Please, I—I'm beggin' you." I could hear her sniffing from behind me that I didn't last a second more inside, grabbing the basket of eggs from the counter and going my way outside where I see my group all up and about on our everyday chores. Thinking—it was a safe place. A haven after the shit we've been through at the quarry, at the CDC. Not knowing that a few steps lie a barn swarming with walkers that these—family think was just sick.

That they just had the flu.

"Mona?" Glenn looked at me with meaning behind his eyes that when he glanced behind me did I find Maggie standing on the porch. I looked away, giving Carol the basket and setting myself down by the tree while my hands couldn't let go of my knife. I was gripping to it tightly until I was given my share, still looking at all of us silently eating together like there's... nothing going on.

I looked behind me again, Maggie was still there, shaking her head subtly and looking beyond to see Glenn, standing anxious. "Spidey." I called, gathering his attention from the Greene girl. He looked at me, eyes asking that even if it—didn't sit well enough with me, I nod. _It was the right thing to do._

"Um, guys?" He called, gathering small attention from some while he stood there, mixtures of emotions passing his face a few times before he mustered the courage to speak again, this time? Even if I know, the way he said it brought fucking shivers down my spine. "So, the barn is full of walkers." I've never seen everyone turn their heads like this all at the same damn time.

And I've never seen this group go from Point A to Point B this fucking fast.

This is not going to end well.

Shane was the one who peeked through the tiny gap of the front door. Everyone stood there in horror when a walker snarled and pushed through it, smelling us like we're a feast in a platter ready to be served. "You cannot tell me you're all right with this." Shane flew back in an instant, angrily at that which I fully understood. This wasn't... it. This isn't how it should be, we all know that.

"No I'm not, but we're guests here. This isn't our land." The other logical explanation was we never belong here. This isn't supposed to be our place, it's their place, and we shouldn't intrude. But then again, these are geeks we're talking about. Real and actual geeks chilling at the empty barn all to themselves.

"God, this is our lives, man!"

"Lower your voice." Yeah, Shane. Wouldn't want them to team up all at once and pushed through the door. Even if I made sure it's close, they're still as heavy as real humans, maybe even more. They didn't have any pain receptors, that only meant they'll push no matter how many limbs they lose if it meant getting a bite.

"We can't just sweep this under the rug." Andrea was thinking right for once.

"Okay, we've either got to go in there, we've got to make things right or we've just got to go. Now we have been talking about Fort Benning for a long time."

"We can't go." Another logical reason why we can't is that maybe, _duh_ , Sophia! She's still out there! Is this the part where I realized that no one is actually looking for her except Daryl? That we've become so blind by leisure to think about a lone girl out there in the woods?!

"Why, Rick? Why?"

"Because my daughter is still out there." Yes, she is! And we shouldn't leave without her. I wouldn't go if they do. Even if that meant losing people along the way. Just as long as we find her.

"Okay. _Okay_ , I think it's time that we all start to just consider the other possibility."

"What?!" I shouted all at the same time Daryl reasoned out and Rick. Our voices together making the door bang a little bit.

"You found her doll, Daryl. That's what you did. You found a doll."

"It's a fucking lead, officer!" I frustratingly shouted. For once trying to make him understand that a lead was a lead. And being a police officer, he should've known better. It only meant we could find more—or maybe her instead. Things like leads aren't supposed to be treated like its nothing. If the doll is near, she's near!

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about." Daryl was already starting to draw near Shane and this wouldn't end well for all of us either way so I pushed him with my finger on his chest, just a little bit hovering over it to avoid touching his personal space. He didn't glance at me for one second, all eyes straight daggers on Shane.

"I'm just saying what needs to be said. You get a good lead, it's in the first forty-eight hours. Let me tell you something else, man. If she was alive out there and saw you coming all methed out with your buck knife and geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction!" Rick looked at me the second Daryl escaped my figure that I ran towards and pulled him back by his shirt, knowing I'd want myself to kick Shane where it hurts but it won't do anything other than pull us apart than we already are.

They were all shouting so loud I had to used a tinge of force as I hoists Daryl from his arms and shook my head. "Don't." He looked at me and rolled his eyes, pushing back out of my grasp and paced back and forth while he threw sharp looks.

"Now just let me talk to Hershel. Let me figure it out." I'm more surprised that Rick was as calm as he could be. If this was me, I'd tackle Shane and beat him up real good for shouting at me like that. "If we're gonna stay, if we're gonna clear this barn, I have to talk him into it. This is his land."

"Hershel sees those things in there as people—sick people—his wife, his stepson." Everyone of his family does, and that's what's crazy and confusing about this. How could they believe that absurdity?

"You knew?" _All three of us knew.._.

"Yesterday I talked to Hershel."

"And you waited the night?" _Fuck_.

"I thought we could survive one more night. We did. I was waiting till this morning to say something. But Glenn wanted to be the one." Glenn was rightfully the one to say it. He saw it first, he found out about it and with fear did he not say anything. Who could have said that when Maggie beg him, beg me not to? It's just... too much.

"The man is crazy, Rick, if Hershel thinks those things are alive or no." The door started barging, soon the growling was echoing inside that place that I held on to my knives tightly with my two hands. This isn't the time or place to shout around and have an argument— _why_ did we even do it here?!

"Can we leave now? Before the door breaks down and we'll be their breakfast?!" Everyone started backing away and soon before I leave, I hoist away from the redneck still spouting drawl of curses and other things I couldn't seem to understand. "Don't wanna be fresh redneck meal, won't you?" He followed me right then, angry strides coming through while I looked back once more, stopping the urge to finish this problem off right then and there.

"Where do you think you're going?" I asked the stomping redneck with balled fist looking like he'd look for trouble in an ordinary day.

"What is it to you, _bitch_?!" _Excuse me?!_

I have just about enough of everybody's shit today! Why is everyone acting like an _asshole_?!

"Ramona?" My head turned hastily and found Rick, drawing closer to me once the hillbilly throwing a tantrum was already away. "I need your tracking skills. Andrea and I are going to follow the trail. I need you to come." I would've argued about teaming up with a happy trigger but by the look of Rick, he doesn't look like the resolved man I've found at the quarry. He looked sick, beaten at most. Like he didn't know what else to do. And god knows how much I already know that face.

"I'll come with you."

* * *

It took me an hour before I fully regain my composure. I stayed far from the group at the time, calming myself of whatever it is that's happening around me and after securing my sanity, I came back to our tents and found Rick signaling for me to come. I gestured for five minutes, gathering all my needed essentials that I happen to leave at the redneck's tent—again, and found that he's also there.

Well, whatever. Not like I should give a shit about his presence anyway.

"Where yu goin'?" I pretended to be deaf while hoisting my gun and knives, making sure I have everything away from his tent so I wouldn't need to face him eye to eye again. Besides, his tent was too far away from the others. I didn't wanna climb further just for my effects. "Mona." He called once more just as I was about to leave but I did not warrant him any answer. Not even one look. If he wanted to be an _asshole_ , then be my guest. I wasn't about to take his life choices away from him. _"Don't climb a tree."_ I hear bellow last just as I started making my way to the conference area.

_I will climb a tree whenever I want, hillbilly._

Rick was explaining the ways we'll look for once I got there, pointing on to the map while I found my head flying to the oblivion. Everything has been building up like a bitch again. What we knew was a safe place had a geek motel a few walks from our tents, Carl got shot, Daryl got harmed and became an _asshole_. Why can't anything go right for once? "Also shows she could be moving this way south. If Sophia kept in that direction, she might have gotten out of the forest and into the farmland. So we take 74 up to Ivy Road, then push down south on foot through the forest till we hit Christopher, go east a couple of miles and then double back."

"Rick." The three of us looked behind and sees Hershel, tucking back his sleeve as he neared the car.

"Hershel. We just have our guns out because we're gonna go look for Sophia."

"Before you do that, I could use your help with something." He seemed... bothered.

"Count me in." Andrea volunteered.

"Thank you, but I just need Rick." The old man replied that I knew then I'd be looking for Sophia on my own. We can't wait until the sun went out. We couldn't waste another hour, another day again.

"I'll be down at the barn keeping watch until you're ready." Rick nodded to Andrea.

"And I'll go alone. Check this road right here as much as I could push through the south." Officer looked at me unsure before glancing behind to Daryl's tent, earning a frown from me in which he sighed deeply and nodded. Why would he look back there? Is that supposed to mean I should take him? Because I wouldn't. He knew that Daryl's still not healed enough for a run, much more now that I might injure him more for pissing me off. "I've been out there before, officer. I'll be fine on my own."

"Alright—but get back before sundown. Or we'll catch up to you after this. Clear?"

"Crystal."

* * *

No trails of any significance.

That's what I found while walking along the supposed trail Rick wanted to follow on the map. It was devastating to have walk this far, no other trail aside from a possible animal, or maybe some geek walking around the woods. Not even a clue, more so as a clump of leaves that could be possibly stepped on by a child. But I still pushed through even if I couldn't see more than mucked paths. There has to be something, right? There's gotta be more.

While I was on my service, a missing person is almost always assumed as... dead. They are, most likely, or maybe eventually if they're held captive by the other party. Sometimes, there was never even a body. Not a soul of the man he used to be, only left with memories you hold with you.

No one will look for you if you're gone. Not when you didn't leave any trail or clues to follow on where you might be. Missing people are a hopeless case and I almost believed that it wasn't worth it following this tirade--but then again, if you develop an attachment to something you shouldn't have--there's this slither of hope you're hanging into. That anything is possible if you just believe it.

No matter how far off or impossible that may be.

You get your hopes up, you know? You try. You always wanted to try. This is where I found out just how much I've changed as soon as I fell from that damn tree near the quarry. How my views of the world changed just by believing I could keep these people together no matter how hard it was to do. That I wouldn't lose anything along the way.

_Well, attachment really was a bitch._

Two hours of walking around hopelessly urged me to go back to camp. It was already nearing sundown and I don't intend getting lost on the way just because I never brought any flashlight with me. I may have a great sense of direction—but that doesn't mean I could memorize the path I've followed. That, and my feet are still killing me.

Walking back was faster than I thought. Although while I was there, I still haven't found anything useful. I was starting to envy Daryl at this point, how he could actually find clues wherever he goes? Maybe my tracking skills were rusty? Or it lacks more dedication but I'll make up for it tomorrow. I may start tracking as early as I could, by that maybe Sophia's holed up somewhere safe and I could find her before she wakes up and wanders around.

"Where the hell yu been?!" That's one way of greeting after I reached the Greene's house. "Thought yu went with Rick an' Andrea?!" What was he on about now?!

"Rick says they'll catch up. I went alone, not wasting time. Found nothing though." I spared Carol a glance, couldn't bare failing her more than we already have. I started looking around then and found that we're all here, well, except Rick, Shane, and Dale. "And don't _fucking_ shout at me." I spat back to Daryl, going down next to Maggie who I knew was still seething with me.

But I gotta make peace with my demons, right? "Hey, Maggie—"

"It's alright." _Oh_? "I knew you needed to do what you have to. I think I would've done the same." I'm glad someone here understands.

"Ah, 'ere we go!" Daryl spout that my eyes darted to Shane holding the bag of guns behind his back. A rifle right by his hands as he neared and handed one to Daryl. Alright, what's happening? I was gone off to the woods and now there's something going on **again**?! "What's all this?"

"You with me, man?" With what?! "Yeah. Time to grow up." Redneck was gleeful holding a rifle. But what exactly is going on that I'm supposed to know?

"Thought we couldn't carry?" T-Dog asked, being handed by a pistol by this insane officer.

"We can and we have to."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, possibly so that my tone was already at the verge of losing my shit.

"Look, it was one thing sitting around here picking daisies when we thought this place was supposed to be safe. But now we know it ain't." Oh, no. "How about you, man? You gonna protect yours?" He handed Glenn a rifle that he was so reluctant to accept. "That's it. Can you shoot?"

"Can you stop?! You do this, you hand out these guns, my dad will make you leave tonight."

"We ain't goin' anywhere. Hershel, he's just gonna understand. Okay?" Shane looked at me with those— _batshit crazy_ eyes, rifle hanging mid-air as a smug smile etched on his face. "Oh, come on, _firecracker_. I know you've been itchin' to kill somethin'." _No, I'm not._ "A soldier _without_ PTSD? Come on, you loved having blood on your hands." His smirk sent my nerves into a fit but I try and remained as calm as I can be.

"Oh, _Shane_. You're a bumbling _dumbass_ if you think I'll follow your lead." I say sweetly and sarcastically as I could, his eyes slashing daggers at me before he grinned.

"Oooh, you're going **soft** , Mona." _Fuck you, Shane._ "Your call." He shrugged, "Feel free to shoot if you want to, a'ight? Nobody's gonna hold it against you." I _fucking_ hate him.

"Oh, shit." Our eyes fell towards the tree line where that Greene boy was making an idiot of himself, guiding—a _geek_ being held by Rick and Hershel using a... pole I've seen be used on _fucking_ dogs. 

What the _fuck_ is actually happening right now!?

This is bad, **this is so bad.**

I ran to their direction, hearing footsteps behind me while Shane's stride was faster than ever. We reached the front several meters away from the barn while they shouted together, and while I stood there incredibly befuddled and pissed. "Shane, just back off!" What Rick was doing is something I never wanted to see in my lifetime again. It wasn't even remotely believable that he'll pull this stunt. What for?!

"Are you kidding me? You see? You see what they're holding onto?"

"Shane, just let us do this and then we can talk!"

"What are we gon' talk about, Rick?! These things ain't sick. they're not people. they're dead! Ain't gonna feel nothing for them 'causes all they do, they kill! these things right here, they're the things that killed Amy. They killed Otis. They're gonna kill all of us."

" _Shane, shut the fuck up!_ " I shouted with all my might.

"Hey, Hershel, man. Let me ask you something. Could a living breathing person, could they walk away from this?" He shot the geek three times at the chest it shook me to my ground. "Could someone who's alive, could they just take that?" He shot it at the heart, at the lungs, all that could possibly kill a living breathing normal human, but it was still standing. More shot around its body, more that it could pierce every known organ that could keep anything alive.

It's still standing.

" _Shane, enough!_ "

"Yeah, you're right, man. That is enough." A shot at the head brought it down from Hershel's grasp that looking at the man, I knew then that all his beliefs and resolution was crumbling down the drain.

"Enough risking our lives for a little girl who's gone!"

"Well, _fuck_ you then! You don't know that!"

" _Oh_ , Ramona. I used to think the military is supposed to be smart enough to use your brain instead of your—heart, **oh** , do you have that now?!" _Fuck you._ "Enough living next to a barn full of things that are trying to kill us. It ain't like it was before."

The next thing I know, Shane was already breaking the wooden barricade of the door while I stood there, grounded to my place while it dawned on me the words he had said. I wanted to be angry, I wanted to be so fucking mad to actually make him disappear in the world but—how the hell was he right?! How the hell does the other side of my brain perceived that he was right all along? I knew we had to kill these geeks one way or another, but I was so reluctant to do so even if I was preaching about the risk. About—about taking it out before anyone else gets harmed.

Somewhere, somehow, I knew my demons were still knocking its way out of the comforts of my chest. I became—sentimental.

I became so attached I already feared to hurt anyone. I already fear hurting Maggie's feelings, Hershel's beliefs.

"Lil bit, shoot now before it gets ya!" A geek walking towards my direction, snarling, gnawing to get me and I knew what to do. Shoot and pull the trigger, right? _Easy_. Get the gun out of my holster, pull the safety off, point, and shoot.

_No, no it's not._

I was a killer, before. It was what I spent my days all my life. Before. But—this—this was wrong. This was not our decision to make. This was **not** mine to make.

**"No."**


	23. Little Girl

It all died down the minute I blinked again.

And the carcass of corpse sprawled lying down on the ground. Lifeless, never grunting, not moving. It lay there as the silence envelope us like the cold winter, no one dared to speak, no one even dared to make any movements. We all stood there while I looked at the redneck next to me, down to his rifle he was gripping down like he couldn't hold it anymore. He drew closer to me but I merely stepped back.

I don't know why, but I did.

I'm _fucked_ up, everyone knows that. I'm deeply at fault down to the very core but not one minute did I hold on to my gun while they were triggering every figure that walks out of that barn. Not one minute did I moved from my position even if a geek was bound to get me. And I'm not saying it makes me—better, but the fact that I never did what I was supposed to do scares and shook me off of what I was so used to do.

_Kill_.

"Are you—" I began but a movement inside the barn echoed that almost everyone got back at their stance. It was beyond ridiculous that they've managed to keep this lot of geeks, and much more the fact that they kept this locked and alive for so long to— _oh_ , **_shit_**.

**Sophia**.

I couldn't explain what I was feeling when suddenly, my hands went cold and my eyes _couldn't_ —refused to believe the sight that's in front of me. I almost even forgot how to breathe if not for the sound of wail that went through my ears. Moving became a hard task to do, daring my eyes away was impossible as she— _Sophia_ , snarled at the view of us. She was—dirty, and heavily beaten, a bite on her shoulder that there continued to ooze blood from it. She was walking— _limping_ towards us that I had not the heart to move.

I've always imagined this day would come, always imagined we'd, Daryl, or maybe I would recover her alive and well, would see her run around with Carl on the fields as they wake me up with grins on their faces. There was a part of me that for once—saw a glint of hope and happiness, only for it to crumble down when I saw her grey clouded eyes.

I was blinded from grief as soon as the shot reverberated in my ears. One swift shot at the head, one loud thud resonating at the ground, and silence. Silence so deafening and sudden that I still could not urge myself to move.

I could never imagine how this must have felt for Carol...

Where you raised a child with all your heart but could not have done anything when she—she turned into something that will never bring her back to what she was. To a bright innocent child with heart full of warmth and glee.

"' _ey_." The only ever time I've managed to move was when Daryl nudged my shoulders, the rifle no more in his hands as he looked at me eye to eye. "Let's go." I wanted to ask what the rush was when I saw the other Greene girl, making her way towards a heap of corpse laid down on one another, I watched as she bent down on her knees and held the geeks—murmuring and crying all at the same time.

The slight movement of arms shook me off the daze that I ran as soon as the geek's hand took a hold of her arms and hair, pulling her down like a feast waiting to be bit, seeing Shane pull her away with the help of Glenn, that I took it upon myself to hoist the knife out of my sheaths, slid down on my still swollen leg, and buried it right at the center of its forehead.

My attention flickered towards the crowd that I sigh, shook my head and pulled out Knifey with that disgusting sound that followed, making it my mission now to actually check if ever they missed anyone on their target practice. " _Flower_ , let's go." I hear Daryl say that I finally turned to look at him.

"Why do you want me to go?" I spat harshly as I began to walk, kicking off every corpse on my way expecting one of them to move to be able to finish off what they so lovingly started.

"Yur not okay!" He drawled that I almost instinctively laugh.

"What's it to you, hillbilly?" A disbelief smirk grew on my face for a second before my feet landed in front of Andrea and a bundle of blanket laid down on—Sophia's body. I couldn't look at it and froze on my spot again so I willed myself somewhere else, away from the redneck, and away from her. I only saw his figure going away that it added the heaviness in my chest, much more the sight of Carl—that he just had lost his best friend in this god forsaken apocalypse.

It was all too much.

"Mona?" T-Dog called soon as we crossed paths that I faced him, "You okay?"

"Alright, this is the second time someone said _shit_ about being _okay_. What's happening?" I finally asked, wiping down the blood on the knife at a corpse near us.

"You didn't shoot." Is that it? Just because—I made a sane decision of not pulling the trigger, I'm suddenly not—okay? Yeah, maybe I wasn't. But it's not a big deal. I made a decision, a choice I knew would let me live and let me sleep at night. _Barely_.

"I'm okay, T." I say, shifting on my better leg as I looked around. Finding Shane and Rick walking in our direction right by the heap of geeks scattered around the floor. Lori asked of Dale to take Carl on the house that it lifted a tiny pressure around us. He was just a kid, but the things he had seen were far too complicated for anyone just to brush away, not to a ten-year-old.

It's then that I caught Shane's eye looking at me, like he seemed to be unburying parts of me that many hadn't seen before and I'd like to see him try. He was on the verge of my _fucking_ nerves today one wrong move from him, I promise to point a gun at his head and wake him up from his delusion. Back at the quarry? Shane was—okay. He led the whole group so seamlessly until Rick came to the picture that he always just seemed to... _threatened_.

"You want us to start burying?" T asked.

"We need a service. Carol would want that." Andrea entertained the idea which sounded probably sane yet Carol wasn't here—and the way she looked like a while ago was the same look I held when I first came in the military. So much hurt to even face the truth of coping with people dying right before your eyes.

"Let's—let's dig a grave for Sophia, and Annette and Shawn, uh, over by those trees. And we'll need a truck to move the bodies." Lori pointed out orders that I started to look around and blow through my nose, it's gonna be a day's work for me. And I haven't done this since—since the quarry. And I hope I never had to. _We almost didn't._

"I got the truck." Shane went against the Greene boy and volunteered to get the truck, hoping to above he doesn't have another idea of running the dead twice over because it was his idea to kill them in the first place, who knew what all these did to his unscrewed hinge?

"And the others? That's a lot of digging."

"We bury the ones we love and burn the rest." It was the same conversation and same answers that I shook my head about and brought my feet inside the barn, hunting for more geeks that's still alive inside, maybe they cut off the leg of one geek or maybe it could barely survive for having not enough human nutrients, whatever it was, I led myself around only to find Andrea standing right by the door. "Nothing?" She asked.

"Not a lick." The barn was huge in retrospect, the reason why they picked it a fun place to store in their old friends and relatives, hopeful of a future that's not gonna come.

"You didn't shoot." Oh my god, this is the third _fucking_ time! It's starting to piss me off now.

"Killing them is not my choice to make. It was Hershel's. It was—what's left of their family. Even if they're all skin and bones, even if their brain perception are eating the closest living thing it could get its hands into. _It's not mine_." I say finally, ending this whole charade of asking the psycho military why she didn't shoot, I just hope she gets the word out—and I knew she will. Andrea was far too involved with everyone else not to. Even if she pisses people off.

"Hey, Mona?" She called just as I turned my back, "I'm—really, really sorry about your ear, and Daryl's too." I snorted, finding it slightly amusing that I actually forgot about her killing spree if she hadn't opened it now. I even almost forgot I hated her after all that firefight.

"Try being less of a proud bitch sometimes. Maybe we'd like each other." I wasn't worried if I offended her or not but the dumb smile on Andrea's face says it all.

"I'll try."

*

After placing the bodies carefully on the tree, I couldn't take another minute there. It was all too much carrying Sophia's dead body two times in a row, it took a huge toll on my composure I wasn't planning on staying about and watch them dig a grave for the little kid. Hence, I stayed far back to the side of the RV and placed my back on the warm surface of the car, looking ahead by the trees to take my head away from the truth behind my eyes.

This isn't me—whoever this is. This isn't the _Ramona_ that's not supposed to care that much, she's not the same woman that fell from the tree the day she met the group this isn't the Ramona I've grown to be to avoid attachments that'll lead me to my downfall. I was afraid of the realization that I've changed, afraid that the more I stayed here, the more I'm becoming someone I fear to be.

I was already feeling an abundance of care for them that it was a foolish unconscious decision to do so—yet I'm here now, and I don't know if there's any way I could go back to the way I was. To how I couldn't give a single fuck about one death. Or many deaths for this matter.

It's impossible now. "' _ey_ " I hear footsteps followed by a gruff voice I could never mark as somebody else. He sat down inches away from me that I heard him sigh and put away the bow he ever loves so much. He gave me a look, one that's supposed to tell everything if you knew the Dixon's, and I'm pretty sure I know the redneck's dictionary all too well.

"Nope." I answer truthfully to the question of whether _I'm okay or not_. "You?" Daryl shook his head one time and laid it against the RV, the both of us looking ahead at the people gathering by the big tree with graves filled with bodies—and one specific little body I could never muster looking at for too long. It's as if—she reminds me of mistake. That... we all made a mistake. That we acted all too late a child has to suffer that way.

A child.

Nevertheless, we gave respects after they've been buried six feet under. Listening to a few words with Carol not in sight, and leaving just as fast when we though we'd already made peace with our demons. I didn't. This wasn't something I could brush off easily—but my passion for distracting myself amidst crippling anxiety and self-blame would be to do some chores.

"Where yu goin'?" I almost forgot I was still following Daryl's lead when I spun back and tried walking the other way. I spared him a glance, sighing and pointing at the direction of the house that he looked at me intently. A man of few words he was that he grunted and shook his head, finding it hard to extract the meaning of what he just did and led myself back to my main mission right now.

Do something other than spend a time with a hick on his very far tent.

I entered the house and first saw Maggie, I figured the events of earlier took a toll on her seeing so that her eyes were still red and that she hadn't spoken a word when I waltz at the kitchen to help the other Greene girl wash the dishes. I think her name was Beth—and Beth seemed too out of place when instead of actually washing the dishes, she's just... staring at them. Eyes barren and not a muscle of movement while I try not to listen to a conversation Maggie and Glenn were currently having.

"Hey?" I mumbled lowly, just enough for Beth to hear but as if my voice fell on her ear. She didn't respond. "Beth, right? Are you okay?" I remembered just how loud she cried at the sight of her family, the geeks they shot at the barn, and how she was almost turned into feast by the very same people. It surely surprised the heck out of the girl that the signs of shock didn't go amiss. I've already seen that exact same expression, that exact same effect with death.

And I think she needs help. "Maggie?" I bellowed just as fast when Beth's eyes rolled back and her hand slipped on the counter, bringing with her some of the cutleries, thanking above she didn't dinged the knife on the counter. I got ahold of her arm, stopping halfway from her head banging on the pavement that I heard footsteps behind me, helping me lay her back without harming her more than she already did. "Where's Hershel?" I asked soon as Glenn carried Beth from her waist and started walking towards a room.

"I—I don't know." It was a silent agreement to start looking for him when we parted ways outside the house and started asking around from where the resident doctor could be. I tried looking for him beyond the barn, wondering if he was feeling nostalgic of the memories of the people that once inhabited it—or may he just went wandering at the woods for all we know but with no luck, he wasn't in any of them. I tried looking behind their house for hopes of finding him lounging around alone—but still, he wasn't there.

I didn't know how long it took for me to look everywhere for him for as much as I can until I gave up and brought my feet back to the house, finding Rick, Shane, and Lori walking towards another room that I sauntered and followed. I was keeping my distance from Shane, never knew how much I hated seeing his face after that shooting practice that I try to pretend he's a ghost. You can't see him but it's there, and you can choose to ignore it for how much you want.

We entered the room when Lori saw me, turning to me with an unsure smile as she rounded about on the old room, figured this was Hershel's, and boy was he surely some type of a... hoarder. "Your stepmother's things?" There were boxes at the bed, one filled with clothes and they weren't exactly from a teenager.

"He was so sure she'd recover. They'd just pick up where they left off." Oh.

"Looks like he found an old friend." The ghost spoke, passing what seemed to be an empty flask to Rick, signifying just then that the contents of the flask wasn't—enough.

"That belonged to my grandfather, gave it to dad when he died."

"I didn't take Hershel for a drinker." Rick said.

"No, he gave it up on the day I was born. He didn't even allow liquor in the house." Well, I guess he made exceptions.

"What's the bar in town?" The thought popped into my head and honestly? Hershel had the biggest b's in this whole place if he ever did go to a bar, all by himself, in a geek ridden world. Just to have a drink. I say that's gutsy, and I didn't even think about it myself.

"Hatlin's. He practically lived there in his drinking days."

"Betting that's where I'll find him." Huh, count me in.

"Yeah, I've seen the place. I'll take you." I raised my hands towards Rick that he just looked at me, as if he was actually considering if I was gonna go when I bobbed my head to the side and raised my brow. No one's leaving me out of this. Not even the redneck could do it.

"All right, I'll get the truck." I almost punched the air in mere success when Maggie interjected.

"N—No." Looks like spidey already found her Mary-Jane.

"It's an easy run."

"Like the pharmacy?" Wait—what happened at the pharmacy?

"Hey, Maggie? I'll bring him back." The sheriff assured that I would've wanted to assure her of the same but didn't want to actually join at the conversation that's bound to happen with the lovebirds.

And that also hindered me from following after Rick when Lori trailed behind him, leaving me absolutely very confused I almost wanted to throw myself out of the window for being locked in between lovebirds that didn't want to leave each other's smooches.

Welp, this is _fucking_ nightmare.

Times like this? The motivation of being alone forever grows into me a second more each day.

**\--**

_So sorry for the long wait!_

_Happy new year, everyone!_ _I hope 2020 would bring me out of the writer's block misery._


	24. Dead Silent

I successfully evaded a nightmare.

And it was such a great achievement when I was able to slid away from Maggie and Glenn's conversation, also successfully avoided Lori and Rick's argument when I went for the other door, leading me at a window where luckily, I could easily jump off to being that it was only at the first floor of the house. A shroud of bush caught me then that I brush off the remaining leaves gathering at my _ass_ and walk towards the front of the house where I waited by the porch. 

A prickly branch poked my _ass_ for one final time before setting myself completely at the chair, realizing now how ridiculous my exit was and assuring that no one— _absolutely no one_ would find out about my uneventful exit.

Rick arrived soon that I hoist myself away from the chair and called shotgun, placing myself on the passenger seat and laying down my weapons at the dashboard. Lifting a weight on my torso and fully savoring the experience of not worrying about carrying my effects all the freaking time. "Glenn?" Rick asked when he went out to set up his gun and look over the house.

"Inside." I muttered, closing my eyes and finding tranquility even just for a minute. Even just for a short— _short while_.

"Daryl?" I certainly did not expect Rick asking me of a person I couldn't even see within a mile and this act— _whatever this is that he's on_ —is not growing on me in a good way.

"What about him?" He looked at me like how he did the moment I volunteered to go with them and my brain couldn't just connect the dots of where he's trying to lead this conversation. As if my mind suddenly reversed back to basics without any means of advance knowledge. Just simply by asking me about Daryl of all the time and places.

Rick was least to say, looking unsure. "He know 'bout you goin'?" _Wait._ ** _Wait._**

I couldn't—for the love of guns and earth, believe it just dawned on me now. _Like_... this very moment. What he was insinuating all along whenever he looks at me like that and I was aghast. As if it was much better of me to face fifty geeks at the same time rather than explain to _Mr. Good Cop_ that Daryl and I, we are close to _nothing_.

"No— _maybe, I don't know._ Andplease, Rick. I know you and I just met but I'd like to have you know that Hawkeye and I are no more than strangers trying to tolerate each other in a slightly friendly manner." _Alright_ , maybe that's a confusing way to describe what Daryl and I have, all things considering. But then again, things weren't establish and I couldn't exactly act like I'm besties with a vulture.

In layman terms, I ain't assuming I'm his friend until Daryl says so himself.

I'm not even assuming I'm friends with anyone in the group. _Even_ after the things we've been through. _I'm sorry._ That's just how my minds appears to work. Oddly and insanely.

"My bad." He smiled, all pearly whites with a hidden meaning on it somewhere that I let him be with his imaginative mind. "It's just that... you're there when he's there." _Are we really?_ "Can't get one without the other type of thing, you know? Almost like Shane and I." Hate to break it to Mr. Police Officer right here but Shane isn't exactly buddying up with him anymore and I'd hate that comparison if it meant having a loony backstab and attempt murder on my _ass_ every chance he gets.

I'd take Daryl pointing his bolt straight into my face whenever he's pissed to his pants rather than secretly loathe me with all his southern guts. "Well, we're not." I left it at that, bored and extremely uncomfortable with talking about me and Daryl's relationship as if it was a _thing._ We just know each other well, I guess. That's what happens when a person sees you through soaring highs and damning lows. I meant seeing me up high on a tree and down to the ground when I fell together with my rifle the first time we met.

He knew I'm a dumbass—but a dumbass that knew how to kick his ass... _given the circumstances._ He knew every whistle to grunts back when I refuse to utter a word, and quite frankly, Daryl knows me a lot more than he's leading to. What with all the look on my face, my heavy steps, and back when my inner flame almost burn out. He knew, he didn't say much, and he doesn't care. But he still knew. And a man like Daryl Dixon relies on actions than words.

He is confusing and I may not know how to perfectly describe him, but I still did not fancy the idea of people thinking more about him and I.

"There he is." Rick muttered then that my eyes roamed around the field only to see he meant Glenn. And for a second there, I was more worried of the redneck dragging me outta the truck than seeing the lovebirds smooch at the front porch. Both not in my best interest to see, most importantly the image of a boy I met at the quarry who seemed too young for his own good now have a girlfriend, and they're pretty vocal about it. I'm actually happy—but also romance is— _ugh_. "You ready?" I heard then from Rick, two doors closing followed soon after, and I don't know why it's so easy for me now—but darkness followed soon after.

" _Maggie said she loves me."_ I woke up by the sound of Glenn's voice on my left ear with a very big statement. It would have surprised me if not for them actually smooching the hell off and for Maggie's eyes. Eyes that seem either to gleam from happiness or worry more than the average person should. "She doesn't mean it. I mean she can't. I mean—she's upset or confused. She's probably feeling, like—" Wow. I did not know coming to find an old man on a drinking spree would lead in... this conversation. I used to remember my old team talking about girls and love as if it was an easy subject to tackle. It was. _For them._ For me, it was an equation never worth unravelling.

"I think she's smart enough to know what she's feeling."

"No. No. No, you know what? She wants to be in love, so she's—she needs something to, like—to hold onto." That's a pretty reasonable defense, but also a bit of a reach.

"Glenn, it's pretty obvious to everyone Maggie loves you, and not just because you're one of the last man standing. So what's the problem?" Thank you, officer. For stopping spidey's rambles.

"I didn't say it back."

"Idiot." I couldn't help but say, opening my eyes right after and giggling at the sight of Glenn giving me a side eye.

"Well, if you must know. I've never had a woman say that to me before except my mom, of course, and my sisters. But with Maggie, it's different. We barely know each other. _What_ —What does she really know about me? Nothing." Also a decent defense. "We're practically strangers. But I—I didn't know what to do with it. I just stood there like a jerk."

"You've got a lifetime to get to know her. But one chance to say it before it's too late." I'm not a love guru but I sure as hell am aware of things going away before you even had a chance to... to actually say what you really feel. But things happen, a really crappy world is beyond us, and we got nothing else now but time to make it worthwhile.

And that was surely enough of a reason why I drifted to sleep again. It was my own version of love. Love for sleep and love for lowering my guard knowing Rick isn't a raving lunatic and Glenn doesn't annoy the hell out of me.

●

Waking up from a nudge, I opened my eyes abruptly and found that the car stopped at a highway beside a rustic looking building, the bar Maggie was talking about. I stepped out of the car bringing together all my things with me, holding on to my knife when I followed after Rick and Glenn, making sure we won't have any surprise attacks at our six o'clock.

"Ready?" Rick whispered to Glenn, looking at me after that I nod, still checking behind if ever a geek decided to pay the bar a visit. Rick barged in no mere second wasted and kicked the door off, sending it flying back that we entered, guns and knives at a ready only to see a somber bar—and a man drinking alone at the counter with only little of light coming from the window. "Hershel." Not a very good setting for a bar but it'll do for the old man looking for a much needed drink, I guess. I aspire to have the level of confidence he has right now. Unbothered and unwavered not even the sound of a door blasting wide open made him move.

"Who's with you?" Hershel asked while Glenn closed the door and I took a seat right by the dusty chair. I'm missing the car seat now. I should've opted to stay back there. Be a designated driver or _something_.

"Glenn and—Ramona." Rick pointed to me as if the doctor had eyes behind his head seeing through his actions.

"Maggie sent them?"

"They volunteered." Rick answered, walking towards Hershel as he stayed at the bar with zero fucks given. "How many have you had?"

"Not enough." I wandered about at the bar on the other side of the counter, finding bits of drinks that would be either too old to drink or just make me a bumbling drunk. Brushing my hands on the label and making sure I got the right alcohol—a _bourbon_ , perhaps, to pass the time at the rusty bar waiting for the old man to be convinced.

"Let's finish this up back at home. Beth collapsed, she's in some sort of state. Must be in shock. I think you are too."

"Maggie's with her?"

"Yeah, but Beth needs you."

"What could I do? She needs her mother. Or rather to mourn like she should've done weeks ago. I robbed her of that. I see that now." No time for regrets now in an open field—but it would be hypocritical of me to say when I'm downing a bottle of bourbon. Even offering it to Glenn when he profoundly refused and looked at me as if I've grown two heads.

"You don't seem to be the type to drink." He took a seat by the bar and whispered.

"I'm a lot of things I never seemed to be, spidey." I whisper back, trying to mute the conversation of death, geeks, and more death. It was unwise of me to have a taste but in this lifetime, we may never do the things we used to do back then. In this era, I don't think there'd be bars open 'til three in the morning, no beaches with piña colada while I'm undercover, and certainly no beers for warmth on winter.

Things changed drastically moments like this are to savor.

And I don't know how long it went on for us to wait for Hershel to change his mind but I wager about half an hour already. I've finished half the bottle, wasted time trying to make out the words on the torn out menu, and he was still not close to standing up from that seat, _no sir._

"So what do we do? Just wait for him to pass out?" Glenn introduced the idea when he opened the door for his much needed fresh air. I agree, it was way too dusty inside it could almost trigger an allergy that isn't there.

"Just go!" Doc seemed to have overheard when he yelled for us to go away. Tough luck, major. No one's leaving anyone behind. Not when it's to face Maggie's wrath I sense would not be a good sight at all.

"I promised Maggie I'd bring you home safe." Rick defended.

"Like you promised that little girl?"

"Don't ever— _ever_..." I warned, the bottle in my hands pointed to him as if I was threatening him—which I was. No one should ever include Sophia on a conversation fully unrelated to her. And, I have just about enough of his restless bitching. I respect him, up to the respect he had given to us but we're at an open field with zero ways of knowing what surrounds us. The chances of us dying were way greater than the chances of him getting shitfaced at the rate he's drinking. _Fucking_ slow, that is.

"If you want to drink yourself to death, sure, be my guest. The world is bad enough to live on it, who's stopping you, right? Oh— _wait_ , **right** , you have your kids waiting at your _fucking_ house needing your professional help. I may not have lived knowing what a good household is but sure as hell do I judge your home a better one!" It may have been the bourbon or maybe I'm actually just pissed off.

"Stop telling me how to care for my family, my farm. You people are like a plague! I do the Christian thing, give you shelter, and you destroy it all!" Wow, that was a full blow accusation.

"The world was already in bad shape when we met!" Rick yelled the same.

"And you take no responsibility! You're supposed to be their leader!"

"Well, I'm here now, aren't I?"

"Yes. Yes, you are."

"Now, come on. Your girls need you now more than ever." I wager the bottle of bourbon he's still not gonna go even after sundown.

"I didn't want to believe you. You told me there was no cure, that these people were dead, not sick. I chose not to believe that. But when Shane shot Lou in the chest and she just kept coming, that's when I knew what an ass I'd been, that Annette had been dead long ago and I was feeding a rotten corpse! That's when I knew there was no hope. And when that little girl came out of the barn, the look on your face—I knew you knew it too. Right? There is no hope. And you know it now, like I do." Hershel has to stop right about now. "There is no hope for any of us."

"Look, I'm done. I'm not doing this anymore, cleaning up after you. You know what the truth is? Nothing has changed. Death is death. It's always been there, whether it's from a heart attack, cancer, or a walker. What's the difference? You didn't think it was hopeless before, did you? Now there are people back at home trying to hang on. They need us, even if it's just to give them a reason to go on, even if we don't believe it ourselves."

"You know what? This—this isn't about what we believe anymore. It's about them." He drank from his bottle that I was ready to hit him at the back of his head so he could just pass out when a sliver of light entered the room—and a voice we do not know at all.

" _Son of a bitch. They're alive._ " My hands held on to the gun sharply, ready to shoot without needing command when Rick's hand went over my shoulder and bobbed his head a little it would've went amiss—if not for that silent conversation that meant it was not kill time for Ramona.

The two strangers I do not trust, and when I say not, I meant not even the tiniest bit, sauntered in the middle of the bar and made themselves at home as well settled at our nice little places. I sat at the counter itself, hands gripped tightly to sheaths of my gun, just waiting for our guests to make a wrong move.

Rick was nice enough to offer them drinks, even if it was a waste of time and I prefer the quickest way out. My danger radar was off the charts just by sitting here. "I'm Dave. That scrawny-looking douche bag there is Tony." He was wearing that smug almost trying to be friendly but failing smile. I hate it.

"Eat me, Dave!"

"Hey, maybe someday I will." Was that supposed to be funny? "We met on I-95 coming out of Philly. Damn shit-show that was." I wasn't a goddamn agent for nothing and what he was doing was straight out of the playbook for psychopaths. Gain sympathy, be a friendly face, take what you want, and **kill**.

"I'm Glenn. It's nice to meet some new people." He was all gleeful I might lecture him about how psychopaths and murderers work.

"Rick Grimes." Officer is wary, I salute him for that.

"How about you, pal? Have one?"

"I just quit." Hershel was too drunk out of his wits.

"You've got a unique sense of timing, my friend." The guy called Dave looked at me next, eyes I would not even want to linger for more than a second on me as he spoke, "And the pretty lady over here?" I opened my mouth to say things that would trigger a firefight when Rick interjected before I even got the chance to.

"She's Mona." It was Dave's lucky day. "And his name's Hershel. He lost people today, a lot of them." His eyes had deeper meanings than what he was supposedly giving off and I was ready for whatever it is.

"I'm truly sorry to hear that. To better days and new friends. And to our dead—may they be in a better place." Sympathetic act is for losers who don't know how to play. But nevertheless, I drank from the bottle of the bourbon I kept close to me and inserted my other hand on the sheath of my gun.

Subtle and ready.

"Not bad, huh? I got it off a cop." Dave took out the gun from his waistband and brandished it like a trophy.

"I'm a cop." Uh-oh.

"This one was already dead." Not throwing any assumptions out there. Just here for whenever this conversation decided to end. I'm dying to go back to the farm and sleep on a nice tall tree.

"You fellas are a long way from Philadelphia."

"It feels like we're a long way from anywhere."

"Well, what drove you south?"

"Well, I can tell you it wasn't the weather. I must've dropped 30 lbs. in sweat alone down here. First it was D.C. I heard there might be some kind of refugee camp, but the roads were so jammed, we never even got close. We decided to get off the highways, into the sticks, keep hauling ass. Every group we came across had a new rumor about a way out of this thing."

"One guy told us there was the coast guard sitting in the gulf, sending ferries to the islands. The latest was a rail yard in Montgomery running trains to the middle of the country—Kansas, Nebraska."

"Nebraska?" That's a long... long way from here. And he can't tell me they're just having a detour.

"Low population, lots of guns." The big _fuck_ decided to mouth about the entirety of their intention in one go. And Dave knew—that I knew. Considering the look he gave me right after.

That's right, _bitch_. I know.

"Ever been to Nebraska, kid? A reason they call 'em Flyover States." Glenn was utterly confused when he looked at me and he should not ask me what that meant. I will never tell. "How about you guys?"

"Fort Benning, eventually." Wait, is that still a thing or are we trying to chase a broken dream here? Fort Benning was impossible. I may have never been vocal about it but when Shane once asked me about it on the quarry? It was an immediate no. Travelling a long way is a pain in the ass itself, more so having people who still does not know how to defend themselves. It'll be a suicide mission, something we could not afford any time this day. Not when everyone's just about fragile considering the circumstances we've been through these past few days. _Today._

"I hate to piss in your cornflakes, officer, but we ran across a grunt who was stationed at Benning. He said the place was overrun by lamebrains." Oh, shit. I called it!

"Wait, Fort Benning is gone? Are you for real?"

"Sadly, I am. Oddly, the truth is there is no way out of this mess. Just keep going from one pipe dream to the next, praying one of these mindless freaks doesn't grab a hold of you when you sleep."

"—If you sleep." A point I'd hate to agree with.

"Yeah, it doesn't look like you guys are hanging your hats here. You holed up somewhere else?" Oh, here we go. I thought for a second there they're gonna play it a wee bit longer. Seems like they've ran out of much needed patience.

"We're here, aren't we?" I interjected, a tone of being a smartass in play as I trigger the true parts of their ugly souls.

Dave only managed to smirk. "Those your cars out front?"

"Yeah. Why?" Rick looked at me like I've now grown three heads. Fine, officer. I'll calm my _shit_.

"We're living in ours. Those look kinda empty, clean." I promised I will not intrude if it's not shooting guns. "Where's all your gear?"

"We're with a larger group out scouting, thought we could use a drink." Doc seems to know what's going on. A+ for being drunkenly observant.

"A drink? Hershel, I thought you quit." I'm getting a tad impatient for this. "Well, we're thinking of setting up around here. Is it—Is it safe?" Pointless questions that leads to true intentions.

"It can be, although I have killed a couple of walkers around here." Glenn answered.

"Walkers? That what you call them?" He hummed. "I like that. I like that better than lamebrains. More succinct." Excellent set of vocabulary but still, a waste of knowledge. "So what—so what, you guys set up on the outskirts or something? That new development? Trailer park or something? A _farm_? _Old McDonald had a farm."_ The bigger guy walk across the bar to the side and unzips his pants, taking a piss at the side making me groan inwardly in pure disgust. "You got a farm? Is it safe? It's gotta be. You got food, water?"

"You got cooz? Ain't had a piece of ass in weeks." And this is where I drew the line.

"Haven't you got somewhere in Nebraska you've gotta be?" I say, standing up from my place on the counter and counting down to five to ease my nerves. I trust Rick's judgement, but not—not when it's compromising everyone else's safety. We're wasting time talking when we could've been on the way back home.

"Hang on a second, _sweet cheeks_. This farm—" He did not just called me that. "It sounds pretty sweet. Don't it sound sweet, Tony?" Merle couldn't even finish that word without my fist threateningly colliding a finger reach from his face and this man had the gall of them all.

"Yeah, real sweet." _One_.

"How about a little southern hospitality? We got some buddies back at camp, been having a real hard time. I don't see why you can't make room for a few more. We can pool our resources, our manpower." _Two_.

"Look, I'm sorry. That's not an option." _Three_.

"You guys are something else. I thought—I thought we were friends. We got people we gotta look out for too." _Four_.

"We don't know anything about you."

"No, that's true. You don't know anything about us. You don't know what we've had to go through out there, the things we've had to do. I bet you've had to do some of those same things yourself. Am I right? 'Cause ain't nobody's hands clean in what's left of this world. We're all the same. So come on, let's take a nice friendly hayride to this farm and we'll get to know each other."

"Have you ever heard of the word no or does your brain only have the word succint in it and a fart the next?" The silence was deafening and the jaw setting on Dave's face showed it all—I got him pissed now.

"Who the _fuck_ are you to insult my buddy?!" We were all taken aback when the big dude started yelling words that I certainly did not like at all.

"Everybody, let's calm down."

"Don't ever tell me to calm down. I'll shoot you four assholes in the head and take your damn farm!"

Big mistake. "Rick, I'm sorry—"

"Ramona—" I did not waste a second more when my hands curled against the gun and pulled the trigger without hesitations. One shot to the head for the man who called me _sweet cheeks_ —and gun aimed for the second man when another shot reverberated in my ear. Not from me, but from Rick's gun as he did the honors of finishing the other one for me. Our instincts worked together in eliminating a threat that I could feel it raging in my bones. The impending signs of other survivors that would likely kill for a sanctuary. That would—do things, unimaginable things just for a week's worth of heaven. I was not a stranger to that reasoning. We've all done far unreasonable things for survival but never would anybody take the heaven away from us.

Like what the dead man sprawled in front of me said, _ain't nobody's hands clean in what's left of the world._

Silence. _Again_.

Silence, _oh_ , how I hate you now.


	25. Bourbon

My body could not have chosen the perfect time to act out when my fingers seemed to go all _asshole_ on me and began twitching like a bitch.

 _No_. Not because shooting some low life that plans to murder us all frightened me. And _no_ , not because The Good Sheriff shot the other poor bastard again right in between his eyes for good measure—but because apparently, staying in a god-forbidden world riddled with geeks reminded me that I should never have drank that bourbon.

It was dumb to forget that my body never reacted well with too much alcohol _(too much meant enough for my body to go ape shit)_ , not when there could possibly be a hoard rounding us about and locking us at our unsecure location. My hands could not stop fidgeting I almost slammed it on the counter to make it stop. "Mona? You okay?" I hid my hands behind my back when Glenn appeared to my left, eyes searching for clues of what he would've wanted to see but saw none. I would've never shown fragility, more so because it wasn't a part I intend to develop over the course of the apocalypse.

"Yeah." I whisper, coming out hoarsely for some reason but went with it. Maybe I was just starving, drinking with an empty stomach and all but I let it be as my hands fumbled down to our dead companions looking for bits of pieces we could loot.

"We should go." Hershel spoke, that it surprised me then that it's actually already dark and Hershel seemed to have went out of his drunken stupor when the shots reverberated in his ear. That was one way of a wake up call. Effective, at that.

I nodded about, figuring that the others would've been worried shit that we're not back yet and I didn't wanna risk the others to go looking for us like we're playing hide and seek in the dark. Just then when I was about to turn the knob, a light flew past the dusty window of the bar that I automatically slid my back on the door and held for my gun tightly. This is what I'm trying to make them understand a while ago. We're headless chickens out at a stupid bar in an unsecured location. We were practically blind and now I have to deal with this out of all days.

_Day keeps getting shittier._

I signaled for everyone to stay low as I turn the safety off of my gun and waited for the sound of the car to drive away and ignore us. Although it wasn't even a minute when voices echoed from outside. And that only threw more troubles. " _Dave? Tony?_ " Even in death do they continue to bother us.

" _They should be here, man. I'm telling you, I heard shots!"_

_"I saw roamers, two streets over. Might be more around here. We gotta get out of here now."_

Three. A total of three voices I overheard from the small crack of the door that I turned to Rick who looked at me as if I've grown nine heads now. I know just how heated he is right now after the small firefight a while ago and his wide crazed eyes shouted to me for help which I was glad to oblige if my hands weren't such a bitch that couldn't stop shaking. _He must have seen it, too. I couldn't hide it now._

The figures went away a little bit but it was still far from over when I could still see the people looking for the dead corpse sprawled inches away from us. They were outside, scouting the whole perimeter with zero chances of going away. "Stay down." Rick crouched and walk over the next window, looking ahead at the other houses while my back was still hovered behind the door, trembling and sweating like a pig. This was not a good time to have the effects of the alcohol and I don't have the medicine to keep it at bay. _Not anymore._

"Why won't they leave?" Glenn whispered while I try to compose my breathing.

"Would you?" Hershel murmured back.

"We can't sit here any longer." Talk about the obvious, captain crunch. I couldn't wait to go back at the farm and sleep it all off. "Let's head out the back and make a run for the car." The boys started making their way slowly across the room when shots were made from outside. They consecutively went back and I never even had the chance to hoist away from the door. But the voices, they were closer again. But we could still make it if we moved lighter than our feet—an ability I wasn't so sure I could procure now.

" _Walk_." I whispered just enough for the three to hear. " _Walk away slowly."_ They wouldn't hear us over their useless bumbling arguments and time is wasting the more we sit here and wait for them to go. That, and I'm losing what's left of my patience.

Hershel followed first on my command, crawling slowly at the pavement when the words I overheard filled me with more sweat than the summer heat. " _We're looking for Dave and Tony and no one checks the damn bar?"_ The voices came closer that Glenn looked at me in horror before I mounted my hands and feet solid on the ground in a rush and _almost_ —almost got thrown off from my wet palms when a figure pushed the door only for it to slam back when I urged my body to have it stay close. " _Someone's stopping the door."_

" _Is it a roamer or somethin'?_ " I acted on a whim when the door unexpectedly pushed open again when I slammed it harder, only now more obvious that a living breathing human is stopping it. "Yo! Is someone in there?!"

"We don't want no trouble. We're just looking for our friends." Rick looked at me like he was being asked if he killed the president or not. Sweating like crazier than I do while I mute out the words I don't intend to listen to from our unknown foes outside. For a minute there I almost decided we all walk away from the door while the bumbling idiots decided if they're imagining or not but Rick's gaze threw me on a fit.

His composure is failing and he's asking for help.

I laid my hands down, pointed at the way of our escape while my back lay solid at the door. If Rick was still sane, I'd figured he'd understand that they should make their way now so that I could clean up the mess after, and we'd all go our merry way but his adam's apple moved in a motion I was so frustrated I did another thing on a whim.

"Please don't hurt me." I acquired a persona two years after I got into special ops. It was kind of the task that's supposed to test my ability in adapting and surviving a new environment to be able to infiltrate a group so tight knit not even a needle in a haystack could pass through. A girl, a fragile soul scared of loud noises and had been through hell all her life a movement or a touch frightened her she'll go through a fit. I was younger then, it fitted the whole aesthetic. But my voice never changed and in the art of voice acting came with a commitment.

 _Crying_. "P-Please, I beg you." Glenn looked at me like I'm some kind of a lunatic, eyes watery and all but I was in it for the hell of it all.

"A-Are you okay? Are you alone in there?" The voices outside continued. All arguing of whether they just barge in or not but the one was persistent not to.

" _It's just a girl, man. Can't hear nothing more._ " As if his whisper wasn't loud.

"Please, go away. I'm alone. I don't know you." I turned to Rick and pointed straight out of the back door, now angrier more than ever that he's just sitting there all frozen and dumbfounded as it seems. He nodded though, to my relief and slowly, he first made his way across the room.

"Did you happen to see two men around here?" The voice outside almost shouted, smartass not knowing his voice could call out a hundred geeks.

"I didn't see anything! Please! Don't hurt me." It was a mixed of scared and agitation in my voice but they take so long to argue it's bugging me off.

"It's just a girl, man." The other voice started, seeing Rick halfway now. Good god, he's slow. " _Fresh meat."_ Oh no, he did not just say that, too. Are all other men in this _fucking_ apocalypse disgusting?

"Don't hurt me. Please. I—I don't have any weapons. I just wanna live." I urged Glenn to go, getting Hershel to follow right after him when a shot blasted into the window, glass falling by my head that I wasn't able to duck, seeing Rick stood up abruptly and shot back. I guess the alter-ego didn't work for the best—albeit worked too _shitty_ , that is.

"Go! Get outta here!" It took me a second before I slammed my trembling hands on the pavement and pulled down Rick, shots flying everywhere that I made for cover behind the bar just in sight of the window where after they think they got us, did I take it my turn to blast back the shots before taking cover once again. I took sight of Glenn and Hershel, making sure they're still alive because I wasn't in the mood to drag them from their ass right about now.

The shots stopped for a moment as I straightened up my trembling arms on the counter and waited for a right time to peak. I knew I couldn't shoot perfectly right now for the love of all gods and this was the perfect time for Daryl to come in and curse the sons of bitches out all while shooting them head on with his bolt. _Wow, I must be in hysteria for thinking about him so randomly right now._

"Hey!" Rick started shouting just then that I knew he'd been meaning to do it since god knows when. He was awful at this, by the way. Making it known that we're too good for the world trying to stop the exchange of bullets as if they weren't already resolved of killing us. "We all know this is not gonna end well! There's nothing in it for any of us! You guys, just back off, no one else gets hurt!" There were an infinite amount of silence that when I crawled away from the counter did I see Rick bobbed his head over at the corner of the bar. Hearing footsteps right after that I was worried for a second on who he might've tasked to be a headless chicken this time.

"I'm going." I whispered but he backed me off using my arm, shaking his head and looking down my arms where it was trembling like hell.

"You're not okay." He stated in a fatherly tone I almost scoffed if it wasn't for the shot that reverberated from behind the bar. It was a millisecond act of adrenaline that I pulled away from his grasp and ran to the back door while calling Spidey's name.

"I'm—I'm okay!" _That makes one of us._

I crouched soon as I reached the door, wary of merry idiots with trigger fingers, seeing Glenn hide behind a wall while our cover was fully exposed by a broken window. I signaled to wait for a minute as I drew closer, hoping to the high heavens my hand coordinated thoroughly with my abilities before poking my head on the window with a gun raised ready to shoot.

 _No one._ There's no one outside. Not a dead walker, and most certainly not a normal human. I whistled quietly to let it know that we have no one outside but my hands were still holding on to the trigger tightly. _Just in case._ "I—I thought I hit someone." Spidey mumbled that I could see him trembling the same as me, too. Nice to know I'm not the only one with jelly fingers tonight.

"It must've ran." I say, my ears getting a hold of the sound of a floorboard creaking behind but I wasn't the least bit worried because if it's not Rick nor Hershel, we're already dead. But I let it catch up to us before Glenn almost whipped me with the barrel of the shotgun as he pointed it behind. " _What the fuc—"_ It was Hershel, and for a second there I almost promised not to let Glenn have a gun for this exact reason.

"S-Sorry, sorry!" I nodded as Hershel brushed away the barrel with the same look as mine. _A small nerve ready to burst from that sudden moment._

"Rick wants you to try for the car." Hershel was definitely not talking to me and Rick absolutely knows about my hidden situation.

"Try?"

"You'll try and succeed." Well, that's a bit short for words of encouragement. "I'll cover for you." And that's not a good plan at all. Isn't he just drunk for a second back there?

"I'll cover for you, too. Alright?" Spiderman looked at me as though we were losing our heads but we're not. And I can't do it for him—my body isn't exactly my best friend right now.

"That's a great plan." The boy answered sarcastically that I tapped his shoulders and raised my gun by the door. Making sure there's no one attempting a shot once again before I nodded at him and opened it slowly.

It was a few feet from the car if I was counting down together with his slow strides, looking back at us that I waved my hand and made him confident about going forward. Hershel was looking to the empty lot at our left and I was looking out for Glenn at the right just incase he missed an opponent but one shot rang in my ears that I backed up in instinct and sees Hershel shoot at the unknown assailant.

Well, he's certainly not just a goody-two-show Christian who doesn't know how to shoot. "You alright?" He whispered that I nodded, crawling back only to see Glenn's converse by the dumpster. And he's definitely not moving.

"Cover for me. I'll check." I heard footsteps behind us but had no time to wait for Rick when I slowly made my way to the dumpsters. My back glued at the bricked wall while hearing moans of whoever it is that Hershel shot.

My strides were fast this time, not making a sound over skipping leaves and cans among other things and running straight across where Glenn was sitting like a duck looking straight ahead.

"Spidey, please tell me you're okay." I say exasperatedly, checking his frontal body of any signs of blood that he shook his head with fast paced breathing. "It's not okay right now but it will be, soon." I'd like to think the old man is better at words of encouragement rather than me, though. Not really one for positives. "But I need you to breathe in and out, slowly. Calm your shit because we're gonna get through this." The dumpster was covering us perfectly from the road that I peaked through, eyes searching for more when for a minute there—it was all _black_.

 _Searing pain._ That's what I felt a mere second of my head popping out of our steel cover that I instantly cowered back and hit my head hard against the wall when I thought I could've stopped the pain from covering it with my hands. My cheeks, lightly grazed they were when my hands ran through the injury but it would've felt like a jolly Christmas if it wasn't a bullet that have caused that.

I felt a cloth immediately being dragged along gently over my face and for a second, my hearing a bit of a blur before opening my eyes and realizing that's Rick in front of me. His hands were also trembling—or was that mines? I have no way of knowing just yet when the pain was slowly becoming unbearable.

 _If I lose my fucking cheek I'd kill that motherfucker who shot me. Nine times over._ "Hey. Hey." I jolted when Rick pushed the cloth a little too hard. " _Shi_ —I'm sorry. It's—It's just a graze, okay?" I was right—but it hurt like _fucking_ hell.

"They're driving out." Glenn said soon that caught my attention and ever so boldly, with a bloody cloth tightly holding on to my face, peaked my head for good luck and saw a man atop an old pharmacy building talking to another on the car. _He must have been the one who shot me. I'm gonna kill him._

The guy jumped as though he mastered parkour all his life when his feet buckled at the rate of height he was jumping from. He fell ungracefully from the little stunt, rolled down like a rag doll from the second roof and wailed like a _bitch_ that he was—then his friend bolted.

But it was a wail of death and idiocy that called out for a sound I was dreading to hear from this _fucking_ adventure. **Walkers**.

Glenn quickly called out for Hershel soon when Rick motioned for me to follow him, dragging me with his one hand along the road while the pain was irritable at its finest. But along the way of thinking we're going for the car—we're not, _actually_. We went for the blithering idiot who shot me that fell right at a dumpster with his leg knee deep pierced at an arrowhead fence. Must be why he's wailing like a bitch.

 _He deserves that_. "What are we doing here?!" I asked exasperatedly when I heard steps behind me, turning in time to see Hershel and Glenn catching up. "Shut up!" I half whispered, half yelled to the boy who couldn't zip it. "Glenn, look out for walkers." I commanded and turned back to Rick, making him face me and pointing specifically to the injure right on my _fucking_ face. "We're leaving and I'm not gonna die here because of this _son of a bitch_." I was seething I could kill this boy right here right now if the group hadn't really instilled to me one thing.

 _Pity_.

"I'm sorry, son. We have to go." Hershel said in a manner as though he was giving him mercy.

"No, no, don't leave me, please!" He pulled up quickly, must have been that his leg was rather numb from the injury it took. My cheeks were.

"We have to go!" I take mental note for Hershel, backing me up, and for Rick, to not go on a run with him anymore with his pitying ass. I like him but god so help me I would not tolerate this _shit_!

"We can't." I really wanted to leave Rick's ass marooned in this town if not for the mere fact of Carl losing a Dad in the middle of a terrifying apocalypse.

"He shot Mona on the cheek! He shot at us!" And another point for Glenn. _Thank you._

"He's a kid!" Rick defended like an idiot.

"He's a dumbass!" I fought back, hearing pleading from the boy behind me that I shushed him and went back to arguing in the middle of the walker-ridden town. " _Shut the fuck up!_ " I seethed.

"This place is crawling with walkers!" We're shouting, all fighting back for what we believed in that I was ready to run and surrender and never go back to our camp again. But these people. _These are my people._

"The fence went clean through. There's no way we can get the leg off in one piece." I kicked the fence off soon as I've come off to the realization that I was here. And I was going to support whatever it is that they do. And that is... to save a blundering dumbass on his miserable fate.

"Shut up or I will shoot you!" That's a good solution, Rick.

"That may be the answer." Hershel pulled Rick away that I was left to look at the kid gagging to his own wails that I kicked the fence again and pointed a gun at him with my still trembling hands.

But then, Glenn held on to his feet and the boy made more noise, apologizing right after that it was a conclusion I was around a lot of idiots tonight. " _Shut the fuck up or I'll cut your fucking leg off that fence!_ " Silenced followed that I dropped the gun and saw that the men were looking at me. The boy did shut up, too. And it dawned on me that they heard what I said.

"That hatchet still in the car?" Rick motioned for Glenn that he shook his head, our police officer taking out his kiddie knife that I rolled my eyes and presented Knifey, glimmering under the moonlight ready to cut a leg off.

"No, no. Don't cut my leg off, please!" The boy was pleading to hell and back but we were all deaf. If he wanted to be save, and if we wanted to get over this, we'll do this right now.

"I'll have to sever the ligaments below the kneecap, out above the tibia. He's going to lose his lower leg." Our doctor started spouting medical phrases that I was able to get on, smirking evilly to the boy who shot me when he heard what was going to be his fate.

An eye for an eye, _indeed_. "When we get clear of here, we're gonna have to find some tinder, cauterize the wound so he doesn't bleed out." They went on to the job that I stayed back while holding at my own injury that's been irritating on my face. I've never had an injury on the face for so long I forgot the feeling—until today, that is.

"Ramona. The knife." I handed my trustee pal to the old man and heard the noise almost calling out for the nearest geek in the state I was ready to shoot him if it weren't for Glenn getting my attention.

"Walkers!" He nudge me to look at the other side of the road and sure as hell they were, walkers limping towards the nearest sound that I forgot about tending on my cheek and hand ready to pull the trigger at the nearest one.

"Hershel, is it already off?" I shouted, hoping he'd already slashed through his leg like a butcher on a meat shop but it isn't.

"I need more hands!"

"Ramona, I need you here!" Rick yelled that I tapped Glenn and backed out to see that the place was swarming with walkers at the other side.

I started shooting just then, one after the other, missing some more shots until I found my grip to reality that we're going to hell if this doesn't end right now. "I'm gonna need a little more ammo, guys." I was conserving the bullet left on my gun but this was just ridiculously wasteful as _fuck_. "Just please, just please pull his feet off the fence and get it over with!" The pain started creeping up towards my left eye from that graze that I backed out and knew I wasn't useful up to this end. The nausea was starting to say hello to me that I knew then, _I really should not have had a drop of alcohol in all my life ever again._

Rick caught sight of it that we pulled back and looked at the kid who can't keep his mouth shut for the tenth time of the day. "We don't have time!" I was not serious about my suggestion at all but Rick looked at me once, heave his breath and pulled up the kid's leg with no hesitations.

That's when I saw _darkness_.


	26. Lucky Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday today and I feel like uncovering a past *wink wink*

You know you're having one hell of a dream the minute you opened your eyes, no more were the dark tent nor the smell of the earth, not even the threat of walkers and not a group that's gonna kill you every second you stay with them.

I know I'm in a dream because, _well_ , I'm kind of—sort of—looking at my _younger self_ while having no ability to move at all. It would've been nice. Watching myself sleep like a creep while savoring the days of my youth if I wasn't an orphan stuck in a whore-house in a god-awful stuffy storage room as a housekeeper for a lady that looked like an angel when she adopted me. (A lot, I know.)

I could still vividly remember the day that she did. Swooped in on the children home, looking for a sweet lucky girl that's gonna be her daughter and she'll be spoiling so much so that that child will never worry for the rest of her life. I didn't know how she did it at the time and I was ecstatic to find out my nightmare of a life was gonna end at thirteen when all hell breaks lose and I was kicked on my ass (quite literally) to one of the bar she owned where she had women making money for her.

I was gonna run. I really wanted to. If not for a broken rib, a sore leg after a damn good beating, and my lip near bursting from the jab it took everyday I wonder how I still looked normal after that.

And while I was watching that girl, that sixteen year old girl who just crossed off the date of her birthday on the calender, the girl that slept through the pain and bullshit of it all, I felt something I never had for a while. Something I closed off to the world because I didn't wanna forsake the way people looked at me and my abilities.

I felt fear. Shivering fear as she slept dreamily at the old futon bed smelling of old socks.

I shouted. I did. Once, twice—"Wake up!" Three times. But she couldn't hear me. _I couldn't hear myself._

No matter how loud I scream, no matter what movement I do. It never did anything as I watch her— _oh, I don't even know her anymore._

This place, this place was wretched. It's a nightmare, a god forsaken place and she should wake up! _I should wake up_. I don't belong here. This was a mistake. I wanted to do something to wake her up. Searched for my body of any guns to rid her of the pain that's about to come when she wakes up but I couldn't move. I couldn't do anything to make her life easier. "Wake up, Ramona." I muttered, for one last time before the door to that dark room blasted open and she jolted awake. Eyes as tired as they could be, hair so short she could be a man at first glance, and those eyes. Those dead fucking eyes.

Empty. So empty. "Wake up!" This time, she was awake and this time, a woman's voice blurted out from the door. I couldn't see the evil witch for all my ability yet why would I want to relieve that memory anyway? She's far too gone and dead to care about her mere existence. "Wake the fuck up! Now!" The young girl, meek and small for her own good slowly rose from the bed. Her body, ridden with bruises and scratches, all blood red as she tries her best to walk. I feel sorry for her. I wanted to ask her why she never thought of ending it right then and there wherein everything hurts like hell.

Where everything made her numb not even a cigarette burning from her neck bothered her anymore. She screamed, yes, she cried, yes, but she never said a word.

_Not anymore._

No, she never pleaded for her life. Never ask for mercy.

How the hell had she become so strong that day? _How the hell did I become strong that day?_

I shut my eyes close. Not because seeing her hurted me, but because I wanted her suffering to end and finally close the book but when I open my eyes again.

 _She's right in front of me._ I was right in front of me.

Sixteen-year-old fucked up me was in front of me with a single streak of tear in her eye. Blood pooling at her left eye while her lips were busted, nose broken from getting hit by a broom and face as beatened as a pulp. I don't look like myself and she could be barely even recognizable if she died right there. "I'm sorry." _She didn't speak._ I didn't speak that day. Not that my voice would ever be heard. I didn't speak, not that it did anything to rid me of the pain. I didn't speak because I didn't deem it worth it to beg for a life I never deserved.

But there it goes. Another punch right in the face that she fell. Head slamming loud at the pavement but she never cried. She only tried to rise up again even though there's a possibility that she broke her skull.

The only ever time I realized then I could move that I hurried to reach for my gun in instinct, _handing her_ —handing myself that gun that she looked at me. Cold, cold eyes. "Let's kill that fucking bitch." My knife at hand and her gun in hers. I faced the evil witch I couldn't exactly see from her dark appearance, a looming shadow of darkness I moved my hands for the kill but it never came.

Hence, a hand held my wrist so tight that I screamed bloody murder until slowly, _slowly_ , blue eyes and a bright morning welcomed me.

 _Blue eyes_ , horrified while a knife was gripped tightly by my hand, inches more that I could have sliced his neck open.

"Daryl." His other hand slowly reached for my hand like he was careful of me and I was trying hard to think if this is one of my dreams and that he'll eventually turn into that evil wrench but once his hand took away my knife and threw it away, a heavy weight had been lifted from my chest.

It went away so fast I had to hold on to his hands for balance. " _Fuck_." I threw up soon as I regained my balance into a nearby tree where my empty stomach tried getting anything out of my existence. I vomited until I can no more. And I sat there until a figure covered the sunlight blinding my eyes. "Good morning." I greeted monotonously that he looked at me like I'm batshit. I knew Daryl and I certainly know that face.

"The fuckin' hell was that?!" Ah. He certainly knows how to start a morning. _Like I do._

"Well, Dixon, like I said. If I tell ya? I gotta kill you." I smirked, possibly masking everything that just happened and _I was not gonna fully admit that._

He shook his head, the crossbow on his hand and with my knife on the other that I was about to reach for when he pulled away and raised his brow. "Excuse me? That's my favorite knife."

"An' yu almost killed me, crazy bitch." He walked away after that, allowing me an area to breathe that I almost pulled all my hair out in frustration just 'cause I really think I was losing my sanity and this was not a very good time to be, like Daryl said, _a crazy bitch_. Not a good damn time to lose my head in the middle of an apocalypse that could kill me in one go.

It's weird though, as I was sitting down with my head laid on the tree and my head splitting like hell, I wanted to— _cry_. I was fighting with a natural state of emotion for a normal human being. Something I've never done for so long but I did my best not to. I told myself I wasn't gonna be a little bitch no matter what and it took crumpling the innocent grass right by my fingers and stomping my feet on the ground before I finally didn't have that urge anymore.

"Mona." I was about to turn and interrogate Daryl shitless from calling me by my name when Knifey was dropped straight at the ground together with my pack, and a piece of an energy bar together with it. I didn't question his plans, nor fought off with the redneck soon when I wore my bag and stack my weapons on my belt. I tore open the energy bar at once and it tasted grimy and old but it was digestable.

And I gotta suck it up.

Daryl didn't speak soon when he started his strides. Wondering now that he _maybe_ , brought my pack to go on a hunt with him? I mean, if he wanted a duel he would've said so. "Yu goin' or not?!"


	27. One Step

Nightmares are as easy to forget when your belly is full.

But as it was that my belly is chunk full of what's left of the venison the other day and old energy bars, I couldn't quite shake off the feeling of something bothering at the back of my head. Almost kicking my brain out of my ear, nagging its way out of my consciouness on a nice—well, I wanted to assume it's Friday today so I'll do that— _on a nice Friday._

Also, if it weren't for the memory reverting back to the present, I would've bitch senseless about the feeling on my face rather that it still hurt like a son of a bitch yet bearable at most. This was like when I hit my head on the car, or when Andrea grazed my ears, only that was just a scratch and this was a full blown hit. Even the bees would shy away from my face the way it's red and swollen and I could feel how heavy all of it is. Good thing was, it was all mended, covered, and stitched up. I wanted to asked if Hershel did this on a post-drunken state and will be amused if he but nodded grimly at me.

And now? _Now_ I'm walking through the woods with a hillbilly who hadn't spoken a single thing since he invited me on what seemed to be a hunt, not a single look he'd given after walking a few feet away in front of me, but I knew... I just know there's a scowl hidden beneath a wannabe mysterious redneck. "Dixon." I finally called out, my voice hoarse and my body weary from what seemed to be a night filled with adventures that almost killed me. I take a mental note of that and how I should give the people hell for cuddling up with the man who did this to my face. "What are we doing?" And my body couldn't even function well what with that damn bourbon still not making amends with my body composition made up of drugs I should still be taking and regime I should be keeping up.

_Damn apocalypse._

_Damn this redneck._ "I'm gonna go back."

It was all the magic words it needed when he stopped dead in his stride and finally looked at me. Eyes deep set in a scowl I almost stepped back if not for the bugging feeling that he wanted to say something. Does he or was it just the antibiotic swarming on my bloodstream? "Did that _sumfabitch_ do it to yur face?" He asked, I supposed as calmly as he could but I couldn't see a reason why he's asking of it. Or why he's quite mad about it, too. "And yur just lettin' them cozy up with that asshole?"

Well if he hadn't taken me on the woods I would've strolled up at the house and yell batshit at them Hershel would have to tranquilized me to stop me. "We both know I'm not the only one making decisions here, Dixon." He shook his head smugly, "I could kill that boy for all I care but the others would've thought of it different." He started his strides again, this time, angrier stomps than a grisly bear I would have heard it from miles away. "What the hell are you so mad for anyway?!" I cringed, I opened my mouth to yell way to big the crap on my face hurted like a bitch.

"Why are yu lettin' them run over yu after using yu a bunch 'a times?!" _Wait, what?_ "They're gonna get yu killed soon and I ain't pullin' yu outta the ditch this time." When has he ever pulled me outta the what— _wait, wait._

"What the hell are you on about, Daryl?" I stopped and as though his telepathic presence sensed it, he stopped, too.

"Why are you stayin'?" The grand question of them all.

Well, if I was asked of the question in exchange for a million dollars, I'd easily lie through and say that they're the best folks on earth and nothing could change the way I look at them but as it was that we're in the middle of the forest, an angry hick in front of me and my injured face bugging me out every second. The only answer I could give amidst our impending doom as a group was, "I wanted to protect them." Daryl scoffed, "There's really no reason when you think of it. What? They're just strangers and we're all gonna die soon whether from a bite or from falling stupidly on one of the holes in the woods. But when you really see them. Look at them for all they've got? You see that they... they're just frage souls riding out this piece of hell hole."

"Yes. They almost got me killed a bunch of times, like you said. They made me talk when I didn't want to. I got engage more on runs and missions outside but at the end of the day, I like to think they always got my back no matter how foolish the attempt was nor ineffective. They... they count on us." They really do. "And I could say the same for you."

"What?" He mused.

"We're one step off away from our hunting perimeter. Don't take me for a fool, Daryl. I know the woods." He stopped, hands set in motion for the bolt I thought for a second he was going to kill me for knowing his plans and would run off never to be seen again when he shot the arrow straight at a deer I didn't know we're stalking. "Why do you wanna leave?" He went for the deer he caught that fell off the ground like a lifeless rugdoll, hearing a grunt when he retrieved his bloody arrow and wiped it off with a dirty rag. Still not answering the looming question he never really denied.

But of course, considering the things he implied for a while there? I think I know why. "Daryl—"

"I ain't a goddamn babysitter." He hoisted the deer from his back and I stood there, watching him fall back to where we came from.

"Is that why you got them good food for today?" He paused to his steps for a while, dropped the goddamn deer and on the horror of it all, stormed away leaving me in the middle with a discarded food my stomach was grumbling about that I had to chase him and pull him from his vest. _No sleeves on my relief._

"Hey, hey!" He didn't violently react when I pulled him to his arms, his unguarded stance and blue eyes in slits making me want to forgive his tantrum for today. _At least a little bit._ "I'm still here because— _well_ , aside from actually having nowhere to go? I'm here because I want to." He frowned, confused as a drunk man he was, "The world's foul as it is, at least here? I'm helping people like I never did before and I still have some who I tolerate still." My hand left his arms and I stepped back, not taking advantage of the only ever time I got to hold his arms again. It was weird.

"So, yeah." This is awkward and we're both not too good at human skills to function correctly right now. "Just... you know... _Don't leave._ Or I'll lose my shit with these people."

I finally walked back after saying what's on my mind and soon, I could hear strides behind me where Daryl held a deer with both hands while the crossbow was rounded on his shoulders. I gave him a tight shrug, continuing our long way home until we reached the clearing of Hershel's farm and I could finally have a good breakfast—or a potato.

"It's about my past." I spoke before he could take one step from the treeline that he looked at me with those silvery blues. "The nightmare." I heaved, "It's a bitch of a past, Dixon. _It fucked me up."_ Alright, I didn't know why it felt like a breathe of fresh air—not the earth nor the smell of a wet leaf after a harsh rain. It's like—it's new to me.

It was least to say his sudden smirk threw me off the curb. "Ain't we all?" _Fucked up? Yes._

_By a past? Yes, we all are._

_Right in the ass? Definitely._

Daryl and I exchanged glances one last time and went separate ways when I headed straight for the house, on a mission to look for painkillers for my face when I found Rick by his truck parked in front while he assembled his gun. In his truck though, was a passed out boy wearing blindfolds and a headset, looking at him already filled my morning with rage when Rick cleared his throat and shook his head. "Don't." He mumbled silently that I went and leaned beside him.

"Where are you even taking him?" I crossed my arms, eyebrows quirked up to make it a point that this—all this isn't done yet.

"18 miles out with a canteen and some bars. Figured it's enough for him to survive on his own." I nod, "What do you think?" Is he really asking me that?

"For starters, I'm still dangerously mad about your decision of keeping him in. We have limited medicines, Rick. We can't afford to take in everyone that needed help and two, _well_ , I would wanna kill him on my terms for doing this shit on my face but that's crossed out on the list." He nodded though couldn't keep his eyes on me. _Do I look so horrible?_ "And third, you can't always do the right thing." This conversation was bound to happen and I think after this? I'm done giving out pep talks and psychiatrict evaluations to my unending series of patients. "To every right, there's wrong. To every good? There's bad. It all boils down to whether you're doing it to save what's left of your conscience or to save yourself _and_ your family."

"We all wanted to do something good to redeem ourselves, to be human in what the world has become, but you gotta ask yourself first. Is that shit gonna save you or put everyone in harm's way?"

"How do I do that?" He asked sincerely like he was truly confused about the things that's been happening and I fully understand him. It takes one to know that there really is nothing more in this world than to do everything you have to survive. There's no good or bad. Only the choices that seemed right at the moment.

"Taking him in was a bad choice. What if we're followed? We could've all died in our sleep. But taking him in out of the goodness of your heart only to bring him back out once he's alright is playing a game of tag. Only now he knew what we all looked like and the minute he rounded up with their people and saw us? He's gonna have his shot for you leaving him marooned somewhere." I gotta say, Rick has a knack of leaving people bathing under the sun all by themselves. "But killing him would've been ruthless, and that's playing it safe. So, really. There's all kinds of good and bad. What matters is what _you_ think is gonna save us all."

"And what if I make a bad call?"

"Then," I pulled away from the truck, already feeling the stinging pain on my cheek as I try to smile, "We're gonna fix the hell out of it and you're gonna deal with me, officer." Rick smiled like an asshole and I really needed ten pain killers right now.


	28. Demo-crazy

"You should sit this one out, Ramona! Stop it!"

It was the fourth time Carol had to brush me away even after I made sure what I was gonna do is out of her line of sight. I even had to ask Glenn to look out for her if she comes swooping in but Spidey wasn't the best partner out there and he definitely did not see her storming fast to snatch the basket of foods I was passing around because she so badly wanted me to rest.

And there ain't no rest for the wicked, _no sir._

I was feeling a bit—useless since coming back here with a big ass injury on my face. Apparently, after taking the painkillers yesterday? I was convinced Hershel made a mistake from the medicine he'd given me and it could've been painkillers made for a horse because I was out like a light for the whole day day until a while ago where T-Dog was asked to poke me with a stick if I was still alive or now a dumb walker.

And I'm still alive, thank you very much. But I still did not like the idea of sleeping again, much more now that I've heard the boy we've so lovingly adopted was brought back at the barn by two mysteriously civil yet bloodied best friends.

Something happened, I just know it. But I ain't assuming unless it's right there in front of my face. "Boo, just sit down and chill, a'ight? You need to regain your energy!" T gave me a bowl of soup that I finally surrendered and sat back beside the tree near Dale who's cleaning a rifle. He only gave me a once over before going back to his task, and before finishing my only mission.

Eat this witchcraft. "Where's Daryl?" I saw Rick strolling together with Shane near where the others are that I finally asked a looming question I've been meaning to ask ever since I woke up. Usually, I'd see him grunt about on his tent several feet away from us with a fire going on while guttering a squirrel as his desirable hobby but he wasn't there and his crossbow surely wasn't there when I checked, too.

"Interrogating the kid." My mouth fell open as quick as I stood up that Rick backed up for some reason before I fully remembered why I did so.

"Excuse me? Isn't that—isn't that supposed to be me?!" He opened his mouth as an act to say something but nothing came out and I was full on rage at this point. He cannot sit me out. Not anymore. Not even Carol! "I. Am. Dealing. With. Him. And. You. Can't. Say. No." His fingers up to the bridge of his nose that he shook his head and sighed, "You can't keep me out of this, Rick Grimes."

"Fine. Fine." He raised his hands, "Alright. Just as soon as your swollen face comes down. I'll let ya." I smiled, as sweetly as I can as it was a very fair deal before backing up and deciding to look for the redneck when the group gathered at the sight of Rick's stance. It's like, when he stood with chest high up, there's gotta be deliberation coming right up. _The man certainly knew how to assert dominance._

"So what you gonna do? We'd all feel better if we knew the plan." Lori chimed in as she handed a cup of warm water to Carl still sporting his Dad's hat it was cute. _It really is._

"Is there a plan?" Andrea interjected that I blew on my nose and sat back again. I mean, if it's up to me, he's gonna be long... long gone. He wouldn't even reach our sanctuary and we wouldn't even be talking about this right now.

"We gonna keep him here?" Glenn asked.

"We'll know soon enough." Rick answered vaguely so, nodding his head upfront that we saw Daryl.

He came strutting close to the group, my eyes falling from his dirty face down to his bloodied hands still clinging on the crossbow like it's his life I felt a pang of jealousy. From the blood on his knuckles, _of course_. It should've been me, though. I have some things to square with the kid and they aren't exactly keeping the end of the bargain.

They keep him, I deal with him.

_I just made that bargain. Today._

"Boy there's got a gang, 30 men. Got heavy artillery and they ain't looking to make friends. They roll through here, our boys are dead. And our women, they're gonna... they're gonna wish they were." That was not a very nice way of saying good morning, hillbilly.

"What did you do?" Carol asked, seemingly the view of his trophy hands frightened her. 

"Had a little chat." Daryl's eyes fell on me that I rolled my eyes, as if he was intently brandishing his achievements that he drew close to me and grunted.

"Had a nice breakfast, didn't ya?" I could almost feel the smile radiating off his smug face.

"Pay back's a bitch." I frowned, looking at him in confusion when he deliberately looked at the side of my face where lies an injury waiting to be healed that I felt a certain... gladness? Is that what it is? I don't know yet but it definitely put me in a good mood. Though revenge would be sweeter if I do it _personally_. With my own little touch. 

"No one goes near this guy." Rick announced, Lori inching towards him that he's asked again, of a _decision_ we've talked about that he spared me a glance before shaking his head. "We have no choice. He's a threat. We have to eliminate the threat." Doesn't that kinda sounds like me? Am I rubbing off on this guys on all the wrong ways?

"You're just gonna kill him?" Dale intruded just as fast but Rick seemed resolute on the idea. And I don't know if I should be proud of telling him to stick with what he knows is better for everyone else or get worried for the decisions that comes next.

"It's settled. I'll do it today." My mouth hanged the second time today that I was about to follow after him like Dale did when Daryl caught my arms and shook his head. One course of action stopped me from my task of bugging the shit out of Rick Grimes and forgetting it out altogether.

"Hey, no touching! I can't let you rub your bad juju on me!" He was wearing a sleeve, yet again. But I mean, I can't blame him. It's ninety degrees out and his already bad enough discoloration on the half of his arms are already on different shades of skin color but still—he fell, he got shot, and he's not about to pass the juju on me.

"Ain't you a lil crazy?" He scoffed, letting me go at once that I chuckled. Stopping him from his strides to look at me.

"A _lil crazy bitch,_ you mean?" I swore I saw him roll his eyes before he stormed off like a kid that has got a really bad temper that I went the other way to the house, looking for the first aid kit Hershel kept hidden far complicated than an Egyptian tomb that I opened a door thinking it's finally the bathroom when it's a room, and Beth was sitting by the bed, brushing her fingers on a scarred wrist. My sudden burst took her by surprise that she held it close to her chest, looking at me with swollen red eyes before I finally... found my voice.

"I—um, I'm sorry. I was looking for the first aid... kit." Beth pursed his lip for a while before pointing by the door across from hers using the other hand, my feet almost dragging itself to go out if not for the thought that crossed my mind. "Hey." I faced her again. I certainly missed a lot from sleeping real hard yesterday but the marks on her wrist weren't an accident. It couldn't have been. "We don't know the hell out of each other but, um, I'm really sorry about your family." She looked down as I contemplated enough of what I was going to say. "And I know you've got all the reasons to go but—don't." My hands fell on the knob and I sighed, "Just find a reason to stay for awhile. Alright, kid?"

I backed up, closing the door behind me and went on my second mission, treat the bastard's hand before a nasty infection kills him first than walkers.

I was halfway close to Daryl's little homey sanctuary when I saw Dale looking disappointed as he walk back to the direction of the house. He saw me, strides almost passing me enough in my relief when—he spoke, "Hey, Mona." I thought about what he's gonna say, really. Dale and I never really spoke much, not unless we needed to but we really don't see eye to eye according to our principles. He's too good, I'm much too worse. The conversation he's gonna initiate isn't gonna end well for him.

"I've been going around the camp and I know. We don't have the same beliefs in certain things but surely... you can't vote for an innocent kid to get killed? Without a fair judgement? You're a military man and I thank you for your service, but you know there is such thing as due process—"

"Dale, the kid blasted a shot in my direction and now my face is badly grazed. I couldn't even feel it and I've taken painkillers that's possibly made for a horse. You cannot reason with me of how he shouldn't die the minute he took an aim right at us." He pursed his lip and I was still not done yet. Nope. "I wasn't even supposed to be there. It would've been Glenn if he stuck his head out. Would you really fancy that idea?"

"No, but—"

"Yes, I am a military man but the minute a person didn't think twice about shooting at us? It's an enemy, Dale. An enemy lies on our doorstep waiting for a perfect time to shoot us all up to hell if it meant he gets to escape and go back to his people. I will not stand by and give him another chance in life because you know what? My mission is to protect all of you and I will not forsake that by having a dumbass join us in our already merry band of misfits." He knew it was all tits up but Dale looked persevered that he'll convince everyone to join his pity party for the kid. Bad news for him, we aren't taking any chances.

"I know you've been born in war but I also know you will find it in you to forgive him and give him another chance. We all make mistakes, don't we?"

"We can't risk mistakes because it equates to us _dying_ , Dale. Keep that in mind."

* * *

Daryl was nowhere to be found on his tent and I was betting he'll be on the hunt when his crossbow and bad luck jacket was also missing from his homey space. I figured to follow the paths he's made and it wasn't that easy tracking a hunter that didn't wanna be found if not for that distinct pattern on his steps when we were out that I didn't notice I've come to memorize.

I finally caught up with him when I felt a figure breathing behind me, guessing then that my survival days would've been over if I was a mere stranger with a redneck pointing a crossbow behind me. I turned around, a wicked smile on my face and a first aid kit on one hand. Wiggling it like a lunatic Daryl merely shook his head and dropped the bow. "Let's just get to it, hillbilly." I lead the way through a clearer path where there's a large trunk of tree nearby. Leaning in and setting up the cotton pads while Daryl still stood, eyes roaming around the woods I'm sure my act was probably pissing him off right now.

But hey, I'm grateful he injured the kid back. So, this is kind of a _thank you_ to him.

"I take it Dale talked to you first?" I spoke again that he grunted, the only ever answer you'll get from a pissy redneck. "Did he ask you to spare the kid?" He nodded that I finally gathered his attention and pointed down to the ground. He clicked his tongue at first, making me stare at him deeper even more that he just dropped his ass on the ground and looked away. _Good boy._ "He asked me to." I caught his hands from his lap, setting it down on my knee while I slowly dab the pad on his bloody knuckles.

"An' what did yu said?" I scoffed.

"He's losin' his mind if he thinks he could convince me." There's one trait I have about me that people tend to think is very a toxic trait. And that is... "I hold grudges, Dixon. And I don't forgive too easily. He made his decision the minute he pulled the trigger on us and he's not about to be spared just 'cause he's a kid. We all do things that's gonna get us accounted for and in his case, he pull the trigger, he gets to die, too. It's just a matter of how good he'll dodge a bullet." I saw him shook his head before I changed to another pad and wiped off as much blood as I could without triggering both our issues with _personal spaces._

"I had a best friend when I was a kid. He was all I've ever grown to love in this hell of a world but he shot at me. Lucky he missed three times." Daryl hissed when I put on a fresh pad with alcohol on it that I merely sniggered and pulled his other hand on my other knee.

"The hell 'e shot yu for?" Huh, glad someone's invested. And I'm surprised I'm... opening up? Is that it? I'm opening up a nightmare I've kept buried for so long because lately? Things have their ways of coming back to me and I don't know why such strange and fickle fate I have is doing it to me. Maybe it's punishing me for being too abrupt? For thinking of death so much. For the revenge. _The never ending killing._

"He said he wanted to be best friends _forever_ so maybe if we both die at the same time, we'll meet in heaven at the same time, too. Be best friends for all eternity and all that bullshit." I chuckled, "I almost believed him, you know? I didn't see anything more for me when I was a kid. And I know thinking of that would be far out but that's from a point of view of an _orphan_." Daryl stared at me long before biting down the nail on his other hand.

"Who took ya in?"

"My mother's sister." His hands held tightly on my knee when I attempted to put on alcohol once again on the hand. The act almost bringing me back to earth that he, was in fact, holding on to a body part of mine. My instinct first told me to shoot and run but another grip from the knee pulled me in on our little bubble again. _A bubble comfortable enough for us to be so unguarded._ "I never met my family. They died on a collision and I was left for the care of her sister and her wife. They were two good people. So much good in them I wonder why nothing rubbed off on me when I was young." I chuckled, remembering a past nailed down and covered in dust I almost forgot of it.

I almost thought it never existed. "But after the accident with Ro—with _my best friend,_ well, I kind of fucked up the rest of my life until I ended in a home. My aunt didn't want anything to do with me and I have nothing left other than a nickle on my name. A crazy bitch found me in a home and made my life ten times worse. So... yeah." I stepped away from Daryl's grasp soon as I finished the rest of the work that his act of pulling me on my wrist caught me offhand.

No, not because I did something bad nor because he still need a little more tending. But because his eyes were darted directly on the crook of my elbow. "Merl—Merle used to have those." I took a step back, his hands falling on my arms that I brushed everything away and laugh. Like the first I ever did it. Like it sounded so foreign in my ears.

"Like I said. _Fucked up._ " I started packing back the equipment I used when his low voice reverberated on my ears.

"We'll hunt, _flower_. Where'd ya think yur goin'?" I could almost hear the redneck on the quarry that blackmailed me into coming with him to find his older brother. I frowned, staring at him like that... like I honestly don't know what's going on about him.

" _My, my,_ Daryl. Aren't you a little friendly these days?" He scoffed and stormed off like the Classic Dixon style that I smiled and shook my head before carrying Knifey with me.

I guess we'll hunt _again_ today.


	29. The Vote

Four squirrels and five rabbits later, Daryl and I emerged from the treeline and to his homey place where I watched him gut it one by one as if the act was just... natural. It isn't, but it's fairly amusing watching him become so dedicated to his handywork.

"Is that how you woo the ladies back in the days?" I say, dunking an almost empty canteen on my mouth as I hear a grunt from the hillbilly.

"I like it better when yur mute and deaf." I chuckled at the side, leaning on the blocks for support as I find anything else to do in this hell of a world. I guess hobbies would lie down to being a butcher or hunting walkers in your free time. There ain't nothing much to do and I'm kind of sad televisions doesn't exist anymore.

"Hey, guys?" Glenn walked closer to Dixon's sanctuary, shy eyes as I knew him better and he didn't really wanna fancy walking this far from the house. Even I wouldn't very much want that if not for the hick being the only one I like having around _even if it pains me to admit that_. "The meeting's starting in a bit." It's almost sunset and the colors of the sky looked dim and almost red. I looked at Daryl that he merely stood and threw away his knife, wiping it on a rag as Glenn started walking away. I followed to his steps immediately, catching up with Spidey since I never really had the chance to bond with him more after our little terrible run.

"Hey, spidey. Is it about the kid?" He nodded, hesitant eyes they were that I knew our people are much too confused about making decisions like these. Making decisions about a man's life. It ain't easy but sooner or later? I feel like we have to make those decisions at some point. One way or another.

"I just don't get it. A part of me wanted the guy to go, to wish Rick didn't take him home. But... I feel bad for him. He doesn't deserve to die. None of us do." Glenn murmured that I sigh and held on his shoulders.

"We all have fragments of humanity in us, afterall. But the world's at the brink of an end and people tend to—you know, relinquish their honor. To do good in such a terrible world. In the wrongest of all times. But he really... just couldn't stay, Glenn. Good or bad. Whatever it is. He's bound to kill us and I don't wanna spare him and wait 'til he does." Glenn sighed. "Though try to look on the bright side, spidey."

"What bright side?" He frowned.

"There's still some good left in the world."

We reached the house eventually and saw that everyone was already gathered there. I stayed far back, away from circle of democracy as to avoid having my bad blood with the guy affect their overall decision. I wouldn't have been fair if they took my vote, and even if I didn't have anything to square with the kid, I'll still vote for him to go away. Rick was right. He is a threat. Keeping him in for far too long would only prolong our incoming demise and I am not one to take that chance. Since the events from the quarry, everything else seemed crooked the more days we look at each other like we're all enemies that should be cautious with one another.

The tension between Rick and Shane surely affected everyone else. Sophia being found... in that state, ruined a part of us, and Carl getting shot only put me in an edge to keep everybody safe. Add the fact that the redneck beside me fell and injured his own self with his own beloved bolt shouts that everything's been bad luck. I'm starting to think this was our karma for not looking for Merle. Our karma for meddling with Hershel's barn when we shouldn't have been, and just plain, bad _fucking_ luck everyday.

_Just when you think your last days on earth would be nice and easy. Spoiler alert, it isn't._

"So how do we do this? Just take a vote?" Glenn voiced out just as soon as everyone was complete at the living room. Out of earshot from Carl when he walked in and decided he wanted to tune it, though one look from his Dad says he better run. _So, he did._

"Does it have to be unanimous?" Andrea chimed in and the idea was actually smart and quick I almost decided not to hate her anymore.

"How about majority rules?" Lori interjected.

"Well, let's... let's just see where everybody stands, then we can talk through the options." Well, this is certainly going to be a long day.

"Well, the way I see it, there's only one way to move forward." Shane started.

"Killing him, right?" Dale quickly said, as it was it's his idea we're all gathered here for a vote today. "I mean, why even bother to take a vote? It's clear which way the wind's blowing." Like I said to him, his way was never gonna work all because we couldn't keep a stranger with homicidal tendencies and a group of crazies to go home to.

"Well, if people believe we should spare him, I wanna know." Rick stated calmly like the good cop he was.

"Well, I can tell you it's a small group. Maybe just me and Glenn." _Oh_?

"Look, I... I think you're pretty much right about everything—all the time, but this..." Glenn looked around agitated and I was nervous I may have rubbed off my thoughts wrong on him.

"They've got you scared!" Dale, he was being smart.

"He's not one of us. And we've... we've lost too many people already."

"How about you? Do you agree with this?" Dale pointed on to Maggie and I could tell just by their principles that she didn't want this—I mean, they're too religious for their own good but somewhere somehow in this world, I knew then they're gonna open their eyes and see the world for what it is now.

"Couldn't we continue keeping him prisoner?" Maggie suggested.

"Just another mouth to feed." I almost jumped to my feet when Daryl spoke, not actually expecting him to voice something out. _(And surely will not tell him that it's the second time he surprised the hell out of me.)_

"It may be a lean winter." _Oh, fuck_. It's almost winter how could I forget that?! The weather's surely not gonna be forgiving and we couldn't afford mistakes even more. It's one thing having to go through the bright days with few water but it's another thing having to go through an apocalypse with thick freaking snow.

Everyone's spouting out suggestions when Dale spoke again, "Or he could be an asset! Give him a chance to prove himself."

"How's he gonna do that?" I finally asked, making myself understand the whole idea of keeping him in. It's like, voluntarily keeping a snake as a pet only for it to swallow you whole at night.

"Put him to work?"

"We're not letting him walk around." Rick shook his head on Glenn's suggestion and I second to that.

"We could put an escort on him." Maggie suggested.

"Who wants to volunteer for that duty?" Shane interjected.

"I will." Dale was in it enough for the dedication but this was really _not it._

"I don't think any of us should be walking around with this guy." Rick promptly brushed the idea away.

"He's right. I wouldn't feel safe unless he was tied up." I agree with Lori with all my heart.

"Look, say we let him join us, right? Maybe... Maybe he's helpful, maybe he's nice. We let our guard down and maybe he runs off, brings back his 30 men." Shane was thinking right for once and I would've voiced out an agreement if I didn't loathe him so much.

"So the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime that he may never even attempt?" Dale almost yelled.

"I will not stay up and find out if he will or if he won't, Dale. It's a game of chance I'm not betting everyone else's safety on." I finally said, getting irritated by the minute as I would love for him to understand the concept of keeping a bad guy without a leash. He may look tame and young but I looked harmless, too! And I was a _psycho bitch._ Who knew what's going on in that little mind of his.

"If we do this, we're saying there's no hope. Rule of law is dead. There is no civilization."

"Oh, my God." Shane mumbled exasperatedly and I couldn't help but mutter the same. Leaning on the brown drawer next to Daryl as I fail to tune out the conversation.

"Could you drive him further out? Leave him like you planned?" Hershel pointed the idea and I remembered about still not knowing why they came back bloodied and all according to T-Dog.

"You barely came back this time. There are walkers. You could break down." It would've been easy, I guess, if it weren't Shane and Rick. The two have got enough nerves going around as it is. It could've easily been the reason why they failed the first time. "You could get lost."

_"_ Or get ambushed." Resident hunter muttered once more.

"They're right. We should not put our own people at risk." Glenn said.

"If you go through with it, how would you do it?" Patricia asked. "Would he suffer?" Oh, are we now talking about how to—eliminate the threat?

"We could hang him, right? Just snap his neck." Shane suggested the idea so gore I wished I never heard it. Like we're in ancient America and he just learned that the boy was a witch. _Hanging him is barbaric and that's a lot coming from me._

"I thought about that. Shooting may be more humane." _Thank you, Rick!_

"And what about the body? Do we bury him?" T asked when Dale quickly yelled about. All of us forgetting that we haven't actually... voted yet.

"Hold on, hold on. You're talking about this like it's already decided!"

"You've been talking all day, going around in circles. You just wanna go around in circles again?" He don't wanna piss of Daryl, not when his tone of voice could literally pierce a person in half if it could.

_"This is a young man's life,_ and it is worth more than a five-minute conversation! Is this what it's come to? We kill someone because we can't decide what else to do with him? You saved him, and now look at us. He's been tortured. He's gonna be executed. How are we any better than those people that we're so afraid of?"

"No, we do it _not_ because we don't know what to do with him. We do it _because_ it's the only sane option left other than buddying up with the man who shot at us, almost killed us, and would probably get back to us the minute his chains are let loose."

"Mona's right." Shane surprised me by agreeing with me. "We all know what needs to be done."

"Yes but... Dale's right. We can't leave any stone unturned here. We have a responsibility..." The minute Rick decided to pull his leg out of the fence was the minute he sealed off his fate with the boy. _I really wished he just didn't meddled._

"We haven't come up with a single viable option yet." Andrea muttered.

"So, let's work on it!" Dale encouraged and I wished I should have taken the horse medicine again. By now I'd be out like hell and wouldn't face this abomination.

_"We are."_ Rick said.

_"Stop it!_ Just stop it." Carol's voice reverberated on the room and everyone went silent. "I'm sick of everybody arguing and fighting." _You and I both, sister_. "I didn't ask for this. You can't ask us to decide something like this." Exactly the point! "Please decide, either of you, both of you, but leave me out." I feel bad for a mother that's grieving and would hear about more killings on the rest of her days I almost wanted to cover her ears and protect her from the world.

"Not speaking out or killing him yourself, there's no difference!" Dale was persistent as hell.

"All right, that's enough." Rick adjourned. _"_ Anybody wants the floor before we make a final decision has the chance." The room went silent once again while Rick looked around and I was already pissed to hell that my boots clinked at the sound of my footsteps going near beside our leader. He gave me a look, one that reminded me of the time I killed three walkers in front of him before I spoke.

"I do understand where you're coming from, Dale. I really do. No one deserves to die. Not in the hands of another person who's no less a judge nor a jury to prosecute him in any other way but you gotta understand. We can't keep sleeping with one eye open. I'm tired, as everybody are, of sleeping and knowing someone's bound to get ya. Yeah, I hate the kid. He did this shit to me and there's no going around it. I may look biased about my decision but let this be a reminder that he knows how to kill, he probably did a lot of times—and he stupidly skyrocketed on a roof just to get back to his friend. _Just remember that._ This isn't a game. This is our lives that's at stake and I am not putting it in the hands of a dumb kid."

I was done. Those were my last two cents before I pulled back and felt the cozy effects of the medicine washing away and my graze becoming harder and harder to ignore the stinging pain. Daryl may have seen the way I almost tripped on the way back to where he was when he pulled on my arms and steadied me. "Yu okay?" I nodded, pointing at my face that he hovered his eyes around and automatically, entered into a scowl mode. "Get yurself a damn medicine, lil bit." He almost whispered that I merely shook my head and laid my back on a wall.

The conversation wasn't done yet.

"You once said that we don't kill the living." Dale spoke out.

"Well, that was before the living tried to kill us." Points for Rick.

"But don't you see? If we do this, the people that we were, the world that we knew is dead. And this new world is ugly. It's harsh. It's survival of the fittest. And that's a world I don't wanna live in." _Tough luck, sir._ "And I don't believe that any of you do. I can't." I was done. If he cannot see the whole point then there was no going around it. "Please. Let's just do what's right. Isn't there anybody else who's gonna stand with me?"

"He's right. We should try to find another way." Andrea agreed as _expected_.

"Anybody else?"

"Are y'all gonna watch, too? No, you'll go hide your heads in your tents and try to forget that we're slaughtering a human being... I won't be a party to it." Dale looked away from the group with fast strides yet he stopped next to Daryl and I, putting his hands on his shoulder with a look I couldn't bear see. Like it dawned on him that the world isn't much of a fair place anymore. That he's preaching to the wrong choir. " _This group is broken._ "


	30. Walker Danger

I've always hated making decisions when everyone else is opposed to my views.

Call it, _stubborness_ , or go as far as to call it _selfish_ yet I would not be bothered an inch because in my own judgement, I've always done things on my own terms in my own way and no one could have ever changed that. Not before and certainly not even now.

But looking at a group I've been with and—put my life on the line with, I couldn't help but feel this one thing I've always dreaded to feel in my whole life ever again. _Compensate_. It's an ugly feeling of pity and guilt churning in my stomach and turning it into knots the more I stayed at the house, and the more I could see everyone's reaction and hear everyone's opinion.

I've always been a man of my own words yet now—my own damn mind is failing me, too.

"Yu okay?" I've brought my senses back to reality when Daryl nudged my arm, his eyes searching for any faults as often as everybody else does yet not one seeped through. Except maybe the big injury on my face that screamed and begged for help. "Wait 'ere." He went away, my mind unable to conclude why he left and what he's gonna do when Rick faced me, his eyes looking as though his resolute crumbled apart that he bobbed his head once. And I knew immediately to follow even if my brain wanted to split into two.

"What's buggin' you, officer?" I asked when he leaned by the porch and I settled sitting on a chair. I've read far too many people in my life and his look was as crystal clear. _He didn't know what to do._ "You know, before all of this? No one dared to ask my opinion on things because they say—I was rather... barbaric." I shared, finding it in me to put out a little of who I was before... He reminded me of someone. "My methods rely on never trusting anyone else, not even my own self that I only have the need to choose what needs to be done whatever's befitting to the situation. No right. No wrong. Just doing my duties no matter who I hurt because the pain of failing your own team—your family, is proven to be unbearable than the small bother of everyone else looking at you like you're some _psycho military_." He looked at me as if he thought I was joking but I really wasn't. "I'd personally prefer the latter, officer."

"I—I don't know how to do it..." Rick looked down, reminding me of _me_ before brandishing my little _psycho_ title to the world. I didn't care much back then yet I was also limited by my own mind. I feel I couldn't do anything else, like I've lacked choosing the right choice for the better of everyone that one day? A switch flickered and I stopped overthinking, started making myself believe that either do that one thing—or die. I didn't like the idea of dying. So, I did what I had to do.

"I'll do it." He looked at me, sort of surprised of my insinuation that I, too, was surprised of the look he gave.

"No— _No_ , I don't—"

"I'm gonna do it, Rick. Shut up." He looked at me like how Lori did when she heard that I ran so fast to get Carl help that for a minute there I thought Rick was going to hug me—but he shook his head and sighed heavily.

"You don't have to carry the burden, Ramona."

"I almost feel like I'm destined to." It was far-out. Believing in destiny and fate and all the rubbish yet it felt familiar. It felt like I was shaped to do everything that has to be done when no one else can. Or maybe I resolved into it for the reason that I've been so used to doing it all my life there's nothing else really there to still think about.

_It's all I've ever grown to learn from the minute my best friend pointed a gun in my face._

"Just... just think it over." Rick said, as if the decision wasn't already solidified in my mind that I merely just grunted and closed my eyes, feeling already that my skull was going to break if not for the sound of the door bursting open and revealing a frowning redneck.

"I got yu sum from Hershel." He handed me the horse medicine and looked back and forth to Rick's figure walking away and back to me. As if he's trying to figure out the conversation that went when I did the honor of keeping him up to date.

"Rick didn't know how he's gonna do it so I volunteered." He looked at me, confusion lacing his scowling face when his frown grew deeper I didn't know it was even possible.

"The boy?" I nodded, and he nodded after a while, too. "Get yurself some rest first. Yu ain't much useful weak." I didn't utter anything else from the suggestion, deciding it's best if I sleep it off before nightfall just so I could have some good power nap before executing a boy we mistakenly took with us.

Daryl walked with me on the way to my sleeping bag, his frown staying there I wonder how many muscles made him aged far more from frowning so much when he had to pull my drugged up ass from the horse medicine towards his tent far from the rest that the minute I saw the comforts of his cot did I take no time to bury myself on the blanket and drifted right off.

It couldn't be minutes after drifting off that when I opened my eyes again, I swear I could see my old team in front of me. The sense of security it gave to me. As if a hug from a mother that I could never remember yet it felt like so. They were walking ahead of me while we were in the desert. An endless vast of sand going somewhere that I savoured the view more before finding myself walking towards an idiot who thought it was cute to paint his hair red.

"Your hair will fall off if you don't remove that paint." I could hear him laugh. A sound I haven't heard since—since I can't even remember anymore that the minute he looked right at me— _he's not Fred._

He's—He's _fucking_ —Oh, hell no. "The hell you lookin' surprised for?!" I blinked three times. I counted. And when I look again—he's—he's wearing a ripped out biker jacket, a worn down pants and boots that semed to have been on lengths. And... a crossbow. "Keep walkin', _flower_."

I looked behind me and my team wasn't there anymore. It's just—Daryl and I, treading in the middle of bumfuck nowhere I was certain I tripped harder on the horse medicine this time. "You're not supposed to be on my mind." I say irritably, finding his presence in my dream unusual and terrifying.

"You ain't the boss o' me."

"I am the boss of my mind and you're in my dream, _dumbass_." I groaned. In my mind I wanted to stop walking but I couldn't stop. It felt like following his strides were right. "Why you? Why not—him." I say loudly even though he could hear. Somehow, I don't really give a damn. "It's supposed to be— _F_ —him."

"Ain't got no choice." He blurted out, "Ya got me." I almost vomited on our sandy paths.

" _Fucking horse medicine._ " I tried banging my head with the gun I was holding, hoping, wishing to wake up from this ridiculous dream. Me? Walking with Daryl Dixon somewhere in this hell hole was enough of hell itself. Don't I get to have a little mercy for the rest of my days?

"Yu don't have to kill him, ya know." Daryl's voice reberverated, surprising me for a second there when I forgot I was still walking in a desert.

"You tell that to me after you had your shot with him the other day? That's quite unfair, Dixon."

He huffed, "Can't kill him for sumthin' yu would've done to save yurself, too."

"W-What?"

"Bet you Merle's drugs you'll do much worse." _What the hell is he saying?!_

"Are you going to shut up or am I gonna have to shoot you?" A rifle miraculously appeared in my hand yet I was very determined to shoot him in the knee caps if he said anything more.

"Don't even need to bet. It's exactly what you'd do."

_"I said shut up—"_

"'ey, Mona." I jolted awake. My hands fumbling around me half-asleep looking for a valuable weapon when I came up short and found Daryl Dixon smirking at me as he took a hold of my gun and knives. He looked _fuckin_ ' smug and after invading a dream, he gotta pray to whoever he believes in that I don't kill him before a geek does.

"What time is it?" I brush my hair away, my hair tie missing from the bundle of blanket around the cot I kept turning everything exasperatedly when a nudge on my shoulder stopped me.

"Eight." Daryl nudged me with the handle of my knife and encircled there were my hair tie that I gladly snatched from his hands together with my other weapons and pack. "The hell you actin' like a _bitch_ for?!" He drawled on that I sighed heavily and covered my eyes with my hands.

I can't let a dream get into my head. Not now. _Not tonight._ I've got some things to do and having _second thoughts_ is not on the list. Definitely not. "It's—It's just a bad dream." And the space between us inside his tent was not helping that I legged it, my feet taking me to the nearby tree where I slammed all my things about and walked back and forth like a lunatic.

Because I could not stop thinking what the dream Daryl Dixon told me. I could not get it out of my head.

I couldn't.

I mean—it probably was my consciousness knocking from the back of my head. It's probably the truth of them all that I was having a hard time understanding because I was so caught up with the gash on my face and the anger I've kept in my chest for so long. I didn't wanna lose, and certainly did I not want the ugly feeling deep in my head that I let myself get treated like shit again. I never have for so long—yet now seeking for death in exchange for what happened to my face seemed unjustifiable.

It doesn't sound right tonight.

_And it's freaking me out._

"We gotta go, _flower_." Daryl called out, his crossbow over his shoulders as he looked at me a few feet away. I looked at him and he reminds me of the dream that took in the image of him. _How unfortunate that is._

"Hey, Dixon." I called as he started walking about. He stopped though, and turned to me. "I—"

"Let's go." He interjected.

"I got somethin' to say—"

He looked at me for a second I was shrinking under his gaze, and I would've looked away a second more if not for what he said. "I _got_ it."

"Daryl—"

"Shut up already, _Ramona_." The scowl on his face was at terrifying levels and I was not going to fuck about at that point. I followed after him and he waited for me to catch up before we reached the barn where we kept it locked in. I haven't really seen him since Rick and Shane attempted to leave him in the middle of nowhere but I was sure now that the kid took a hell of beating judging by the looks of his swollen face.

Daryl had his eyes covered, passing him to me where I held at the back of his shirt with an overwhelming feeling passing my head greatly. I gotta stop looking at Daryl. I gotta stop being—weak.

_I'm not like this. I shouldn't be._

"Hey, kid." I finally muttered upon pulling him to the location of the barn where they previously did a shooting practice over corpse our host once knew. He tripped over rocks and among other things as I held on his shirt tightly. Still keeping him upright.

"Who are you? I've never heard your voice before." He muttered upon tripping on his own feet. "Where are you taking me? Are you gonna kill me? Is _she_ gonna kill me?"

"She?"

"Yeah. The guy who beat me up said someone was coming to kill me. Some girl that I shot accidentally." _Daryl_? "Please tell her that I'm sorry. I didn't mean it I promise. I promise. Please! Tell her I'm sorry." _Fuck_. "I shot off because I was afraid your group is going to kill all of us first. _Please_. Please!" My hands were tightly grasping to his shirt that I hadn't noticed Daryl pulled him away from me. He looked at me with eyes I couldn't distinguish under the moonlight yet my chest was overfilled greatly with remorse and pity.

For the first time in my hell of a life. I was having doubts on killing someone who dared crossed paths with me.

_And I was ready to run_. I am.

I could run now. I've memorized the way to the woods and how I could get to the other side of the road where I'll doubt we all would ever see each other again. I could climb up a tree again. Sleep there without the fear of anyone else looking for me. I could run now and be back to who I was. Rebuild what I lost within myself and the walls that crumbled apart while I was here. I could run now and rid myself of confusion and second thoughts, of compensating and feeling pity for some guy who managed to ruin half of my face. I could start now. I've had all of my pack with me and I could live off of venison for days. Hell, I could live alone for a lifetime.

"'Ey, _flower_." I could run now and rid myself of that stupid nickname. I could run now and not have felt the way Daryl nudged my arm, "Yu ain't gonna go _crazy bitch_ with me today. Yu hear me?" He pointed his dirty hands over my face and pushed the kid in the middle of the barn where Daryl stood there—as if waiting. And I wanted to run. But I couldn't. _Like in the dream._

The wooden doors blasted open and Rick and Shane strutted upon in the middle where the kid sat spouting apologies after the other. Pleading, crying his gut out that I tuned it away from my ears. Daryl snatched the gun I didn't know I was holding, and cocked it, pointing it straight at the target as Shane stood from the sidelines with the same weapon on hand and Rick walking near the kid.

"Hey. It's all gonna be over soon." _Stay still, Ramona._

"What's gonna be over soon?" He panicked that I helped Rick keep him over his toes. He was for sure going to run even with blindfolds on and heaven knows he's just gonna slam his entirety on a damn wall if he did.

"Hey. _Hey_." Shane shushed him about as he wailed and bawled his eyes out over the blindfold. I was damn near pissing myself for the irritating doubt on my chest that I had to let go and bit my lip to stop myself from running.

"Would you like to stand or kneel?" Rick asked and I bit my lip even harder I could taste the bile liquid of my blood oozing from it. "Do you have any final words?" Rick looked at me, his frown asking why I wasn't holding onto anything when I bobbed my head over Daryl. He looked at us back and forth and nodded.

"No. Please! Please don't. Don't!" _Just look away, Ramona._

" _Do it, Dad."_ A voice I did not expect to hear at this very time echoed in my ear and if I was close to pissing a while ago—I was going to burst right now, actually.

Carl stood there with eyes as cold as it could be while two guns were pointed over a kid who kept begging and pleading. Rick pulled me over the kid as he ran towards his own, followed closely by Shane that before they left, Rick uttered words that I could not believe would fill my chest with— _ease_. "We're keeping him in custody for now. I'm gonna find Dale." Daryl drew closer to me and rolled my gun over, now with the safety on, and grasped at the boy's shirt before hurling him up.

"You've got all the luck in the world, kid." I muttered as he calmed down, sobbing a little bit like the kid he still was. "Let's get you back at your little homey house." Daryl bobbed his head over the opened side of the barn and I followed through, he was still pulling the kid with might because surely the thought of an almost execution would have anybody get all mushy and nauseous.

But a shrill sound of scream echoed everywhere that I was up on my ground, high on alert while Daryl looked as if he was ready to run. I nodded at him because I couldn't be much useful with a head full of thoughts in a battle that he passed me over the kid and ran without looking back.

My head swarmed with worry for whoever it was that I was willing to abandon the kid within my grasp right here right now to check who was it that screamed when I heard noises.

And noises that weren't very much promising.

I hurled about the kid to the side of the barn near the haystack where I set him down and held on his shoulders. I don't have anything to lock him down but I didn't really have much choice if I was going to let those voices swarm around on our safe place or risk some boy who probably was too stunned for his own good to even think of running. Besides, he's got his hands ties up and his eyes covered. He'll have to get frightened of the geeks before attempting. "Hey—hey." I whispered exasperatedly, calming him down on his daze while looking to my back and hearing the footsteps and growling drew near. "I need you to keep your mouth shut...—"

" _Randall_." He bellowed loudly I almost smacked his face head on. But I kept my cool.

"Yes, please shut your mouth if you don't wanted to be serve in platter for the geeks. I don't know how many of them are there but if you try to run. I'm going to hunt you down and _kill you._ And I will find you wherever you go so best believe that if your leg didn't take much damage before—I will burst your knee caps into pieces and lay you down as geek's dessert." It was probably overkill but it was enough of a threat to calm him down and shut his mouth as he nodded. "I don't wanna kill you. But if you wanna pay me back for ruining half of my face. Don't go anywhere." He hanged his mouth to ask when I slammed his shoulder back and slowly turn around to find three geeks growling about inside the barn.

I waited for more as I carry Knifey with me, assuring I won't get any more surprise visits before running the farthest out of the clamped geeks. Slashing its neck from the back while holding on to the forehead that the noise it made gathered the attention of the two. And I couldn't risk a gunshot for two geeks—much less call the attention of other roamers that I instinctively pulled on the other with only one hand, buried the knife against its head while I hurled Knifey's twin and threw it over what once was a woman.

I heaved about while I unbury the knives over their heads, thinking just how many of them are there and who it was that could've been possibly harmed out there when my shoulders was pulled rather ungracefully and a teeth almost at the nook of my forearm before I punched it away and tripped on the lying corpse. My back colliding at the ground as I frantically unbury the knife, the geek closing in me as I try to thrash and kicked him away before finally unhooking the knife on the woman's forehead and burying it on my fourth—and hopefully last geek of the night.

My breath were jagged as I inspect myself of further nor accidental injuries. If I was going to turn like one of them—I gotta know. At the very least, I could go now and save everyone else the time and burden to do it for me but there was not one mark. Only the red grasp around my arm and nothing more.

_Thank fuck._

"H-Hey? A-Are you done? Are there more of them?" The kid called and I almost forgot about his existence when I peaked over where I told him to stay and he hadn't inched away from it.

The threat worked.

"Let's hope that's the last one. Or I might have to feed someone to them to gain myself time to escape."

" _What the fuck?!_ Are you crazy?!"

"I'm joking."


End file.
